Justice!
by Sharibet
Summary: Revolution is brewing in Shin Makoku. Rebels have summoned a Maou candidate of their own from an alternate dimension. His name: Chang Wufei. His attitude: Really bad.
1. An Intolerable Situation

_Author's note: It's that time of the year again, and my friend Pam asked for another birthday crossover. So, here it is, by special request...please enjoy it!_

**Preventers HQ, Earth Sphere, AC 197 **

When Chang Wufei, former Gundam 05 pilot, left his disciplinary hearing, he came face-to-face with the fact that _true_ humiliation lay not in realizing that this was his second disciplinary hearing in less than six weeks; nor in enduring a semi-public tongue-lashing on his recklessness and unprofessionalism from no less an august personage than Lady Une herself; nor even in leaving the hearing to find Sally Po waiting just outside the doors for him.

Sally was his partner, after all, and so, naturally, was aware of the unfortunate chain of event that led to his present troubles.

No, true...and complete... humiliation was to be found in the presence of one Duo Maxwell, former Gundam pilot 02, who was, at the present moment, standing next to Sally and smiling warmly at Wufei.

"Wufei, buddy! I was wondering why I hadn't seen you around lately!" Duo called in his deep, pleasant voice, laced with the drawling accent of the L2 cluster colonies. He was wearing his Preventer's uniform, his long brown hair pulled back in its customary neat braid.

Was there a trace of pity in Duo's eyes? Pity for Wufei?

Which meant he _knew_.

How dare Sally gossip behind Wufei's back! Of course, he had inarguably made some hasty...and perhaps even ill-considered decisions in the past two months. But that was not the issue here!

Wufei tugged at the tight, uncomfortable collar of his Preventers' dress uniform, glared wordlessly, and started to stalk past them.

"I'll just leave you two to get re-acquainted, then," Sally called behind him. "Bye, Wufei! Call me tonight--I want to know what happened at the hearing!"

_Sally, you traitor!_ Wufei thought about sacrificing his dignity--that is, those few shreds that remained to him after two weeks of traffic duty in front of the local high school--and simply running away from Duo. He had a head start. He could probably--

Then it was too late. Duo's arm dropped around Wufei's shoulders, heavy as shackles. "I heard you've been kicking ass and taking names, ol' buddy," he said, conspiratorially.

The other ex-pilots had all assured Wufei that Duo only teased the people he genuinely liked, but Wufei was willing to bet that in his case, Duo just liked the drama reward of provoking Wufei's explosive temper.

Well, he wasn't going to give Duo the satisfaction. _Not this time._

Wufei hunched, biting back the first ten sarcastic replies that came to mind, and tried to stealthily wriggle out of Duo's grip.

Duo was having none of it. He squeezed Wufei's bicep in a friendly grip that left Wufei unable to make an escape.

Wufei turned found himself nose-to-collarbone with Duo, and glared up at his erstwhile comrade-in-arms. Revered ancestors, when had Duo gotten so tall? Wufei wasn't exactly short, but colony-bred Chinese rarely achieved the towering stature of their Earth-born kin.

"Sally is a terrible gossip, and you shouldn't believe a thing she says," he tried.

Duo shook his head. "Man, she'd eviscerate you with your own sword if she heard you saying that."

Despite himself, Wufei gave a quick nervous glance over his shoulder as Duo steered him down the hallway. He had nothing but the utmost respect for his partner, of course, after working with her for the past year on a number of difficult anti-terrorism operations. His respect was laced with a healthy caution for her right hook.

Duo noticed the glance, much to Wufei's irritation, and chuckled. "But it's not just Sally, you know. Didn't you watch _any_ of the news reports on the destruction of that Henderson Earthsphere Industries factory?"

"I didn't need to," Wufei pointed out. "I was _there._ They were clearly planning to manufacture a new generation of mobile dolls under the guise of agricultural machinery."

"_Planning to_ being the operative phrase, Wufei," Duo said. "They didn't find a single mobile doll, nor any banned components, after sifting through the rubble. I don't know how clear it may have seemed to you, but Henderson's lawyers having been having a field day, and Une's been having a cow."

"I _know_, and what are you, the mobile disciplinary committee?" grumbled Wufei, having heard this all before and resentful at having it brought up again. "Look, I admit I may have been a bit...hasty in my use of explosives."

Duo threw back his head and gave one of his patented full-throated laughs at this. People--some of them Wufei's co-workers--stopped in the hall to stare at them, and Wufei felt his face grown hot under their curious looks.

"Understatement of the year!" crowed Duo, his cobalt-blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "You took out the entire plant, plus most of the office block!" Then his expression turned sly. "But really, when was the last time you got laid, buddy? Sally's kinda worried about you. Living like a monk, and all... You obviously need some, um, stress relief."

Wufei gaped at him. Had Duo really just said that _out loud_, in public, and at that volume...?

He had. Someone nearby snickered, and Wufei was torn between wanting to glare at them until they went away, and hiding like a coward.

His fists clenched, and he practiced deep breathing for a few moments. Two black marks against his record already, and he was quite certain that third disciplinary hearing, this time for assaulting a fellow Preventer, no matter how provoking, would prove to be the end of his career in law enforcement.

And Maxwell probably knew that, the bastard!

"I _had_ a method of stress relief," Wufei gritted, finally, through clenched teeth. He mimed pressing a trigger button. "Unfortunately, I let you all talk me into destroying it."

Truthfully, it had been more than mere talk that had convinced Wufei to punch Nataku's self-destruct button. After his ill-considered support of the losing side in the Mariameia Rebellion, the new rulers of the Earth Sphere Alliance had offered him a choice: prison or Preventers. They wanted a highly-trained warrior on their side, but they also wanted a demonstration of the sincerity of his repentance and new-found support for Total Pacifism.

And so, he'd been forced to sacrifice his Gundam, precious relic of the trust that the elders of his lost colony had placed in him. A trust that he'd been unable to live up to--in the end, he could not prevent the destruction of his clan. The great war machines, Shenlong and its successor, Alt-Long, had always been Nataku to him--his companions, his allies, and the visible reminders of the duty he now bore as Dragon Clan's last living representative.

Worst of all, Wufei suspected that the other pilots had all been forced to destroy their Gundams, as well, because of what _he'd_ done.

Of course, the official story given out by Preventers was that the destruction had been voluntary, a sign of the faith that the pilots had in the new regime of peace. But Wufei had to wonder, especially when the others, one by one, had joined Preventers.

Duo had already worked for Preventers once before, and Wufei could understand him craving a more adventurous life than the odd jobs he'd held in the year since the Mariameia Rebellion.

And Heero, too, had surfaced after six months of aimless wandering...the poor guy had probably been at a loss without orders to follow, Wufei thought.

But Trowa had seemed content in his life as a circus performer, so his continued willingness to take on undercover assignments for Une had come as a bit of a shock to Wufei, and had raised the first nasty suspicions about how voluntary the ex-pilots' enrollments _really_ were.

Only Quatre had been able to remain in the new life he was building for himself and others, but he, too, had publicly destroyed Sandrock. And Wufei had no doubt that the Earth Sphere's watchdogs were observing the young head of Winner Enterprises very closely for signs of subversive activities.

_And it's all my fault,_ thought Wufei with an internal sigh. _I've failed everyone. Nataku, forgive me._

Duo was still talking "...now, I can understand wanting to take that prick Henderson down a couple of notches--hell, Heero and I did surveillance on him for months, and we just _knew_ he was up to something. But being busted down to traffic duty," he shook his head mournfully, "—and then destroying a civilian vehicle? Wufei, buddy, why the hell did they let you wear your sword on duty? And what made you go apeshit on that SUV?"

"Have you ever _seen_ the traffic patterns around a school during morning drop-off?" Wufei shot back. "The parents driving those children are the most combative, short-tempered, insane..." He scowled in the face of Duo's obvious skepticism. "If OZ had recruited some of those mothers as mobile suit pilots during war, thing might have gone very differently for us. No, really! Those first few mornings directing traffic as some of the most dangerous action I've seen since the war, Maxwell! And last week...I was wishing I'd saved some of the explosives I requisitioned for Henderson's facilities."

Duo shook his head vigorously, long braid swinging. "Wufei, buddy, that's where you're wrong. This is the new era, and if you're thinking that the answer to your problems is blowing things up..." he paused to sigh with theatric mournfulness. "Maybe you should schedule an appointment with Dr. Rush. She was able to help Heero, you know. He's really lightened up a lot, and doesn't sound nostalgic about self-destructing any more."

"You're making _me_ feel nostalgic about self-destructing," muttered Wufei, pushing open the door to the men's room in an attempt to escape Duo and his obnoxiously well-meaning torrent of advice.

As expected, Duo tried following him inside. "—really think you should at least talk to her once—Pamela's the best when it comes to dealing with post-war syndrome--"

Wufei turned, and put a firm hand in the middle of Duo's chest, halting his advance. "Stop. Following. Me."

"But what about lunch? Sally said I should—"

_Breathe, _Wufei reminded himself. _Find your center_. _Don't give Duo his drama reward._ "I was held captive in that hearing for _three_ solid hours, Maxwell. Lunch can wait just a few more minutes. But if you come inside and continue hectoring me, I swear I will drown you in one of the urinals. Do I make myself clear?"

"Like crystal." Sadly, Duo didn't look the least intimidated. He leaned comfortably against the wall just outside the men's room, and crossed his arms. "You _do_ know that there's no window in that one? Just in case you were thinking of sneaking out on me."

Trust Maxwell to have scoped out every possible escape route from the building. Wufei contented himself with an eye-roll before closing the restroom door firmly in Duo's grinning face.

He made his way over to one of the toilet stalls and took care of necessities, fuming over the injustice of being punished for saving Earth and its colonies from Henderson's mobile suits—even if that slimeball's lawyers were now busily revising history to prove their client innocent.

He had moved on to daydreaming wistfully about much easier directing traffic would be if he still had his Gundam as backup, when he noticed something very odd happening in the toilet bowl.

The water was glowing softly, and swirling furiously, and somehow seemed to occupy more space than was physically possible. Alarmed, Wufei tried to take a step backward, but it was too late.

With a sudden rush and gurgle, he found himself swallowed up in a vortex of the glowing water, and being pulled down, down, down...

His last thought, before losing consciousness, was: _Maxwell is going to kill me, if Sally doesn't get to me first. _


	2. Stranger in a Strange Land

Wufei returned to consciousness slowly, aware of the sound of male voices speaking…_German?_

His situation felt very wrong, and his old pilot training for what to do in case he was taken prisoner kicked in automatically. Without giving away that he was no longer unconscious, he tried to assess his situation.

_Status after self-evaluation: wet, a bit cold, pounding headache, but no real injuries._

_All right. I'm alive and functioning. Now, what the hell just happened?_ he thought, trying to determine as much as he could about his situation before he had to open his eyes.

He was no longer at Preventer HQ.

That was first thing he was quite sure of--he was in some large space, from the sound of the echoes and movement of the air. There were at least five other men, possibly six in the room. The air smelled organic in the way that HQ's air conditioning or the ventilation and recirculation systems of a colony never did. Wufei identified the scents of wool, stale woodsmoke, roasting meat, fresh human perspiration, and a few other unidentifiable but not toxic things.

Had he been abducted from the Preventer's restroom? From a sealed room with no windows and Maxwell stationed right outside the door..._Maxwell..._

_If this is one of Duo's infamous practical jokes..._Wufei thought, darkly, _then I may be going up on those assault charges, after all. _

_Enough speculation,_ he told himself, and returned to his assessment of the situation. He was sitting, slumped, in a padded chair of some kind. A cautious twitch of hands and feet showed that no one had tied him up.

All right, he was probably _not_ a prisoner, at least not in the conventional sense. His confusion deepened.

One of the men was speaking again, and Wufei strained to understand what he was saying. It sounded like German, but somehow comprehension was slippery.

Then a phrase suddenly clicked everything into place, triggering rusty memories of the class he had taken in ancient European literature, and he finally knew what he was hearing. It sounded an awful lot like the Middle High German used by the _Minnesänger_, the medieval German troubadours.

_But who would be speaking such an archaic language in this day and age…?_ Wufei pushed down his curiosity with an effort, and concentrated on what the man was saying.

Just to make things more complicated, the medieval German was sprinkled with words that sounded like Japanese, of all things.

Wufei's headache intensified as he frantically tried to translate what was being said.

"…it worked, I tell you! He has to be one of the exiled Mazoku--after all, didn't he come from the other world through the Gate of Water, just as the legends tell? Just as the present Maou did! And look at his black hair!"

Wufei finally opened his eyes, to find a group of men scrutinizing him intently. Some of the men were young, some middle-aged, but all dressed in old-fashioned clothing. None wore any electronic equipment of any kind--no phones, beepers, or earbuds. And not a gun in sight, though at least three of the men wore sheathed swords hanging at their hips.

"Black eyes!" exclaimed another man, this one older and bearded, in awed tones. His comment was taken up and repeated by the others. "Black eyes!"

"Black hair _and_ black eyes!" the first speaker, a younger man, with a neatly-trimmed beard and an intense gaze declared. "He is Mazoku! How can you doubt it now?"

Wufei ran through a number of questions, discarded most of them as clichéd, and finally settled on: "Who or what are Mazoku?"

He said this slowly and carefully in modern German, not feeling confident enough to tackle the medieval version that he had, until today, only read and never actually heard _spoken_.

Luckily, German had not changed _quite_ as much as English from its medieval to modern forms. He only hoped they could understand his modern German pronunciation.

Wufei had learned to read and write German at a young age, as part of his studies, but he had only started speaking it on a regular basis since joining the Preventers. French might be the preferred language of the restored European nobility, but German was the language of the businessmen and bankers, and a Preventer Special Agent had to be comfortable with both tongues, as well as Standard English.

"My lord, you're awake!" said the man who had been so passionately focused on Wufei's hair and eye color. "How do you feel?"

Wufei assessed him coolly. "What I feel is...confused," he growled. "Who are you people? And how did I get here?" He allowed his gaze to sweep over the other men crowding around. "You do realize that abduction and false imprisonment of a Preventer agent are Class One felonies under the Earth Sphere criminal code?"

As he spoke, he was painfully aware of his lack of weapons in the face of so many swords. Not that his body wasn't itself a weapon, honed by years of martial arts training, but he preferred to counter blade with blade, rather than blade with fist, which was a rather more unequal contest.

His captors—if that was what they were—looked confused at his words.

The young, bearded man raised his hands, and gave Wufei a rather sickly smile. "Abduction? My lord, you mistake us! We did but cast a spell for a new Maou to come save us in our hour of need, and you," he leaned forward, his smile transmuting into something real and shining that made Wufei's gut twinge in alarm, "_answered_ that call!"

"Perhaps," Wufei said slowly, "you had better explain what's going on. And then we'll see if it's something I can help you with." _And while you're talking, I'll see if I can figure out where you've brought me, and whether there's any way to escape. _

There was a murmur of agreement, and a general shuffling as the group of men dragged benches and chairs from various points in the hall—which, Wufei noticed uneasily, was some sort of historic building, lacking even modern lighting—and arranged themselves around their captive.

The bearded man, who seemed to be the de-facto leader of the group despite his relative youth, cleared his throat and began. "My lord, ah--" He gave Wufei an inquiring glance.

"Chang. Preventer Special Agent Wufei Chang," he said, naming himself in the European style, with his personal name first and family name last.

"Lord Chang," the man continued, with a respectful nod. "My name is Sir Walther von Christ, second cousin to _the_ Von Christs."

Wufei blinked, rapidly running through his mental register of the restored nobility of Europe, and coming up blank on a Von Christ family.

When he joined the Preventers, he had taken great care to memorize the list of the powerful families who had regained political power in the ruins of the European Union by first financing the building of the space colonies, and then exploiting them ruthlessly.

Wufei's efforts paid off from time to time, usually when a titled malfeasant would bellow, "Do you know who I _am_?" while being arrested.

Wufei could then call upon his scholarly memory to recite the suspect's titles and lineage, followed immediately by a reading of his rights and a firm wrestling of the stunned suspect into a set of handcuffs, and hence into a law enforcement vehicle.

It was always very satisfying, one of the few petty pleasures he allowed himself.

Walther von Christ was still speaking: "I, and the men you see around me, are all members of the foremost noble families of Shin Makoku, and we have come together because of our concern regarding the dangerous decline of our beloved kingdom."

Wufei blinked. _Shin Makoku? Where the hell was that?_

"...for some time now, we have been concerned about the fitness of the present Maou to rule our kingdom." von Christ was saying. He looked around at his companions. "He's very..."

"—young," said an older man, reprovingly.

"—naïve," said another, with a disgusted roll of his eyes.

"—much under the influence of the previous Maou's sons," finished von Christ. "And too soft-hearted to rule effectively at his tender age."

There was a general rumble of agreement, the other men nodding and murmuring things that mostly escaped Wufei.

"And so we began researching our options," von Christ continued. "We knew that some of the Mazoku went into exile in other worlds—the present Maou actually grew up surrounded by humans, thinking he was human himself!"

"And then he went and _allied_ himself with humans, the traitor!" interjected a middle-aged man, whose belly hung over his sword-belt, nearly concealing the gilt-stamped leather.

"In any case," von Christ said, quellingly, "we found one group of Mazoku who retained their identity, refusing to intermingle with the humans around them, keeping themselves pure and apart—"

Wufei was starting to have a bad feeling about this.

"—even going into exile among the stars when forced out by the narrow-minded and ignorant of Earth," von Christ declaimed. "They called themselves...the Dragon Clan."

Wufei groaned silently. He had grown up hearing multiple versions of why his ancestors had left China, resisting the forced cultural integration and assimilation policies of the Earth Sphere Alliance, and how they had come to settle in one of the smaller colonies of the L5 cluster.

In none of the stories, however, was it ever even _hinted_ that Wufei's ancestors were anything but human.

And if these "Mazoku" didn't consider themselves human, then what did they think they were? They _looked_ human, and certainly sounded all-too-human with their plotting and list of grievances...

He had fallen into the hands of some sort of insane racial-supremacy revolutionary group, he decided. _Better play along until I can figure out how to extricate myself and contact Maxwell and Yuy for backup._

"All right," Wufei said. "For the sake of argument, let's suppose that you're right, and that my ancestors originally came from...here." And the sooner he found out where _here_ was, the happier he'd be. "And that they were, um, Mazoku rather than Old Earth Chinese. With my people having been gone so long, I am not, of course, acquainted with the present situation here in, ah, Shin Makoku. Tell me why you think I should help support a coup d'etat against your ruler."

Walther von Christ brightened at these words. "My lord Chang," he breathed, a disturbingly worshipful gleam in his pale gray eyes. "I hardly dared hope—"

_Gotcha,_ Wufei thought grimly.

And then everyone started talking at one, interrupting each other:

"—lowered the tax rates on the peasants, how am I supposed to live on a reduced income—?"

"—not only that, he wants to make _us_ pay taxes, can you imagine—"

"—hasn't been a good battle against the humans since he signed that damned treaty—"

"—couldn't agree more, my sword is getting rusty. No chance to—"

"—and none of our daughters stand a chance of become Maou-Consort with that damned pup Von Bielefeld clinging—"

"—and everyone knows that Gwendal von Voltaire is _really_ running the kingdo—"

"Yes, that's right. The Maou is hardly even ever _here_—"

Their voices grew steadily louder and louder and less comprehensible as they each fought for verbal dominance.

Wufei studied them critically, ignoring the chill from his rapidly-drying uniform. It didn't take him long to determine that they were cast from the same mold of blowhard titled bullies who had helped oppress the colonies before the war.

His uncomfortably damp socks and shoes just added to his irritation as he listened to a laundry list of complaints that appeared to boil down to resentment of the curtailment of their hereditary privileges, their desire to exploit the commoners of this place, and the lack of wars to fight in and prove their manly prowess.

He began to twitch in boredom as the complaints went on...and on ...and on...

Finally, his patience ran out.

"ENOUGH!" he roared, in same voice that made Preventer cadets want to piss themselves with nerves during his field training sessions.

It worked on these men. They fell silent, waiting for his next words.

"Let me see if I've understood you all correctly," Wufei said, with icy precision. "Is anyone in this kingdom presently starving under the policies of your Maou?"

Von Christ scowled. "No, in fact the peasants are flaunting themselves by buying all sorts of goods above their station, with _our_ tax monies!'

"Hm. I see," Wufei frowned. "Is security threatened along your national borders?"

There was a spate of grumbling about rusty swords and battle glory. He cleared his throat, and repeated himself, more loudly.

"Well, no, not since the Maou's gone and made friends and alliances with all Shin Makoku's neighbors," Von Christ answered, resentfully.

"Depriving us of our right to live as warriors! That isn't fair!" someone added.

"And your ruler is now asking you to contribute to the welfare of the realm by paying a share of the taxes, where previously the nobility were exempt?"

"Yes! It's an outrage!" Von Christ's voice was instantly joined by a chorus of agreement.

"So, in summary," Wufei said, his voice dropping from chilly to positively arctic. "The realm is at peace and relatively prosperous, and your Maou and his councilors are enacting reforms to ensure the rights of the non-noble citizens?"

"Yes! I see you understand how outrageous and subversive this all is," von Christ said, eagerly. "Why, if we let the Maou have his way, in another ten years, the ancient noble families of Shin Makoku will be left powerless and reduced to the same rank as merchants and--and _farmers_." He all but spat that last word.

"That sounds like an excellent plan to me," Wufei informed them, coldly. "As one who fought for freedom and justice for the oppressed people of the space colonies, I _approve_ of your Maou and his policies. Now, you will cease this foolishness and release me?"

The room fell silent and the atmosphere turned instantly ugly, as Wufei knew it would. He was itching to teach these entitled morons a lesson, and it looked like they were about to give him the opportunity to do just that.

_Ten of them, and I'm unarmed. Pleading self-defense after I break every bone in their miserable bodies will be a piece of cake_, he thought, with grim anticipation. _That's if they aren't arrested for kidnapping and assault of a peace officer first._

"This one is just as useless as that boy, Sir Walther," said the oldest man in the group, a disgusted look on his weathered face.

Von Christ nodded. "Take him away and put him in one of the _special_ cells. We'll execute them both as soon as the others arrive."

"You really think he can use _maryoku, _Sir Walther?" asked another man, looking doubtful. "I don't sense anything special about him. He seems awfully...human."

_Maryoku?_ Now that didn't sound like any of the German words he knew, thought Wufei. Was _maryoku_ some kind of martial art?

He curled his fists in anticipation, but forced himself to keep the rest of his body loose and relaxed, ready to respond to the first move.

"No use risking it, Sir Ulrich," von Christ, said briskly. "If he isn't really Mazoku, then no harm done. And if he _is_ Mazoku, then, well, those _houseki_ crystals will keep him from—"

Still talking, von Christ reached to grab Wufei's arm.

Wufei grabbed him instead, while von Christ was leaning slightly forward and off-balance, and used the man's own weight and forward momentum to send him flying overhead.

In a flash, Wufei was out of his chair, and ready for his next opponent.

He dodged the downward swing of a sword—a real weapon with a substantial forged blade, not a costuming accessory, he noted—and spun gracefully, his foot lashing out at the swordsman's midsection.

His opponent folded at the waist and toppled to the floor with the explosive _oof!_ of someone who'd just had the wind knocked out of him.

Wufei completed his pirouette with a jab to the unprotected throat of someone trying to sneak up behind him.

Three down, seven to go, and he wasn't even breathing hard, he thought, smugly. "Who's next?" he mocked, hoping to lure another fool into range of his feet or fists.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Walther von Christ had regained his feet, though his face was bloody from his unexpected nose dive into the stone floor. He had spread his hands and was chanting something about the Lords of Water. The others started smirking.

_Now what?_ Wufei didn't stop to speculate what kind of prayer or invocation Von Christ was making.

Instead, he took advantage of the distraction it offered his opponents. He leaped lightly into the air, somersaulted, and came down with all his weight on his right heel, which caught the wrist of the nearest swordsman.

The man screamed as the bones in his hand and forearm shattered, and his weapon dropped with a loud clang to the flagstones.

Wufei landed, and smoothly swept up the weapon. The blade was a little too long, and incorrectly balanced for someone of his height and reach, but he could work around that.

The important thing was, he had just evened the odds a bit.

Not that he hadn't been holding his own with just his bare hands. "Which of you dishonorable dogs wants to try me next?" he taunted.

Angry men were often clumsy in their actions, and the next two would-be revolutionaries to fall were no exception.

Wufei controlled their dance right from the start, and a few more carefully-calculated insults, combined with a swift twist away from an enraged lunge, resulted in one of his attackers accidentally stabbing the other through the bicep of his sword arm.

Wufei easily disarmed the remaining man in the confusion that followed, and took him out of the action with a swift kick to the point of his chin.

Then an eerie rush of some great power across his battle-heightened senses alerted him to a new danger.

Wufei turned to face the source of the strange feeling, and saw von Christ with a triumphant grin on his face. His outstretched arms were surrounded by gravity-defying blobs of--was that _water?—_and his whole being hummed with power that leapt across Wufei's nerves with a sensation like sparks of static electricity.

Something inside of him resonated in response, but he didn't have time to think.

Von Christ flung his outstretched arms forward, as if hurling a set of twin daggers, and the water globules suspended in the air around him somehow formed a great, towering wave, which shot towards Wufei.

Pure reflex took over, and Wufei moved his sword into a blocking stance.

Heat sang and scraped along his over-sensitized nerves, and his skin prickled as if stung with a thousand needles.

Then the blade of his sword burst into flame.

_Holy shit. What--?_

Wufei had no more time to think before the wall of water hit his blade, extinguishing it with a great hissing and cloud of steam.

The miniature tsunami tore his weapon from his hand, and then he was choking, drowning in cold water where dry air had been only an instant before.

He was still trying to fight when the world went dark.


	3. In a Dark Place

Wufei was getting very tired of waking up in strange places, soaked to the skin, and with a pounding headache. Added to that, his contact lenses were irritating his eyes, making them feel gritty.

All in all, the day that had started out with his disciplinary hearing had only gotten worse. He wondered what Duo had thought when Wufei simply...disappeared from the men's room.

_If_ he had disappeared from the men's room at all.

Looking at his unlikely surroundings, Wufei was struck by the sudden, disturbing thought that he might actually be trapped deep in a hallucination resulting from a psychotic break of some kind.

If so, it was an awfully convincing hallucination, right down to the all-too-pungent smells and the something—multiple somethings, actually--poking him through his uniform.

Suppressing a groan, he sat up, and looked around, studying his new surroundings.

Just as primitive as the old surroundings, he noted, but a lot less pleasant than the great hall he had formerly awakened in.

In fact, the place he now found himself in was approximately the size of Relena Peacecraft's shoe closet. Which he had actually seen for himself during a security sweep of her new residence in Brussels.

Unlike Relena's closet, however, _this_ place was dark, low-ceilinged, and smelled unpleasantly of mildew, rotting food, and stale urine.

No windows, and the thick black iron bars crisscrossed across an arched opening alerted Wufei that he was now in a cell of some kind. There was a narrow horizontal opening in the bars across the bottom of the archway, high enough for a tray of food to slip underneath but not big enough for a man—even one as wiry as he—to wriggle through.

His immediate surroundings consisted of a layer of filthy straw over a stone floor, and a single, malodorous wooden bucket in the corner. Its smell betrayed its purpose immediately, and Wufei's nose wrinkled in distaste.

With an effort, he levered himself out of the disgusting pile of organic matter that passed for bedding, and got to his feet.

He felt dizzy and nauseous. His headache seemed to be pulsing in time with some sort of subsonic vibration that surrounded him just below the level of actual hearing, making him feeling jumpy and weirdly unfocused.

Had he been drugged?

He rubbed his throbbing temples, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. His symptoms certainly seemed to point to some kind of narcotic, though he couldn't imagine how they had managed to administer a dose without him sensing it.

On the other hand, drugs might account for the very strange things he had seen just before he was knocked out. Maybe they had used some kind of odorless gas on him...?

He staggered over to the cell doorway, cursing his unsteady legs. Craning his neck and pressing his face through the gaps between the cold, rough metal of the bars, he looked around.

What he saw confirmed his suspicion that he was currently imprisoned somewhere underground. Not a window to be seen, the air was suspiciously cool and moist, and the only light came from irregularly-spaced torches giving out a flickering, smoky orange light.

The torches held his fascinated attention for a long minute. They flickered and smoked and occasionally sputtered with a popping crackling hiss.

_They're actually using open, unattended flames for lighting in here!_

The colony-bred youth in him was shocked and a little revolted by the displayed carelessness, even after having lived on Earth for the past eighteen months.

_Although,_ he thought, glancing down the arched stone tunnel of the corridor stretching away into the dimness on his left and his right, broken at intervals by the square darkness of other cell openings, _there doesn't seem to be much in the way of combustible materials here._

He next turned his attention to the security arrangements, and was somewhat astonished by the massive but primitively simple lock on his cell grating, and the apparent total lack of any alarm sensors or security.

Even without Duo's uncanny lock-picking skills, escaping from this facility looked like it was going to be a piece of cake as soon as he had a chance to observe the guards—if any--and figure out what their routines and schedules were.

For now, he ignored the unpleasant buzzing in his head, stretching his senses and trying to gather as much information as he could. The cellblock seemed relatively deserted, if the lack of noise was any indicator, and at least fifteen minutes passed without any sign of a guard.

_Lax. Very lax_, thought Wufei, reprovingly. That laxness was going to work to his advantage very shortly.

He extracted his wallet from his trouser pocket—thankfully untouched, though the lack of a thorough body-search helped support his theory about the security setup in this place being as primitive as the locks—and found what he was looking for: his Preventers badge.

A quick search of his cell in the uncertain light of the torches turned up a number of odds and ends buried in the filthy straw, some more useful than others: a woolen sock, full of holes and rapidly unraveling; a single crudely-carved wooden die (weighted to always turn up sixes, Wufei noted as he bounced it in his palm); a rusted nail, and a large stone fragment from a cracked flagstone.

The last two items made Wufei feel hopeful.

Another twenty minutes of work, using the edge of a projecting stone block in his cell wall as a crude anvil and the stone fragment as a hammer, and he had a basic lock-pick set—the nail been pounded into an L-shaped torsion wrench, and the pin from his Preventer's badge had been formed into a crude rake pick.

Despite the noise he couldn't help making during these minor engineering operations, no guards came.

He did, however, managed to wake up one of his fellow prisoners while pounding the bits of metal into more useful shapes.

"Um, hello?" came a boyish voice from the cell directly across from Wufei. "Did they kidnap you, too?"

The voice spoke in Middle High German, but with a curious, clipped accent that blurred the "l" and "r" sounds.

Tucking the lock-picks carefully into his pocket, Wufei moved to the doorway of his cell and peered across the corridor.

Looking back at him from the interior of the cell directly opposite was a teenaged boy maybe two years Wufei's junior. He was Old Earth Asian--another L5 colonist, perhaps?--and dressed in a dark, high-necked tunic and dark trousers.

Despite the severe, military cut of his clothing, the boy was wide-eyed and innocent-looking.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Wufei answered. "I'm Chang Wufei."

"Shibuya Yuuri," said the boy, and Wufei decided he recognized the accent.

_"Anata wa Nihon-jin desu ka?_" Wufei asked, switching smoothly to Japanese.

Although the predominant language of his particular colony had been Mandarin, everyone in the L5 colony cluster also learned Earth Sphere Standard English and the Japanese spoken in L5's largest colony, where most of the jobs were to be found.

"Yes, I'm Japanese," Shibuya Yuuri answered in that language, and grinned at him with a mixture of friendliness and relief.

Looking at the teen, Wufei was strongly reminded of his wartime ally Quatre Winner, who, despite his ability to cut down his enemies with ruthless skill in battle, still projected a genuine liking for his fellow man.

But unlike Quatre, Yuuri radiated the kind of innocence that only a civilian untouched by the horrors of war could possess.

_Don't forget to reassure civilians caught in the midst of a crisis,_ his Human Relations and Cultural Sensitivity Training instructor had advised during his anti-terrorism ops induction. _It makes them more cooperative and keeps them from panicking. _

Wufei tried not to remember the exquisite humiliation of the third and last time he had been forced to repeat the class. _Agent Chang! The next time I see you in here, you'd better be_ teaching _this damned class,_ the instructor had bellowed.

With this in mind, Wufei forced himself to smile back at Yuuri. _Poor kid_.

Before landing in this cell, this boy's biggest worries had no doubt centered on his schoolwork and maybe the progress of a high-school sports team. The chances were good that no-one had taken _him_ at age thirteen, and trained him to rain death and destruction from a giant Gundam, as well as how to be the perfect terrorist, planting explosives and mowing down the enemy in a typhoon of bullets.

"How long have you been here?" asked Wufei, already trying to formulate an escape plan that would allow him to bring Yuuri along during his escape, while minimizing the risk of harm or injury to the kid.

"Well, Chang-san, I'm not really sure," the boy admitted.

"Call me Wufei, please." Another tip from his Human Relations training. "On what date were you abducted, Shibuya_-kun_?"

"Ah...the fifteenth of April. I think." Yuuri swallowed. "And please, call me Yuuri."

_Impossible!_ Wufei gaped disbelievingly at him. His hearing had been held on July fourteenth, and he didn't think it was much past the fifteenth now, even if he didn't know exactly how long he'd been unconscious.

Yuuri was nowhere filthy or unkempt enough to have been held three months in this place.

Unless, of course, he had been treated more nicely by his captors at first...well, that was possible. When Walther von Christ had mentioned something about Wufei being as useless as "the other one," had he been referring to Yuuri?

Wufei's skepticism must have shown, because Yuuri smiled sheepishly, and scratched his head in a self-conscious gesture.

He said in a rush: "They've brought me six or seven meals so far, and it seems a long time between meals, but I don't know if that means I'm only being fed once a day, or whether it just seems like a long time because I'm bored, sitting in the dark with nothing to do."

"Yuuri-kun," said Wufei, gently. "It's the middle of July. July 14th, AC 197, to be exact."

He felt a surge of impotent anger as he spoke. Yuuri's parents were no doubt worried sick about their missing son.

Bad enough that those sword-wearing goons had abducted a law enforcement agent. But to prey on innocent children and cause parents such heartache--it was the vilest form of dishonorable behavior!

It was Yuuri's turn to gape with disbelief. "That's--that's impossible! Time moves much quickly on this side—a week here is only a couple of hours back home." Then he paused, and Wufei saw his frown, even in the dim light of the underground corridor. "AC 197? What's that?"

_What a strange question._ "The year, of course," Wufei answered cautiously, wondering if perhaps the kid's captivity had affected more deeply than was immediately apparent.

There was a long pause. "Oh, I see," Yuuri said at last. He pressed his face against the bars of his cell, and squinted thoughtfully across the corridor. "Er, what kind of uniform are you wearing?"

Relieved that it looked like Yuuri wasn't going to panic, Wufei answered, "Preventers, Yuuri-kun. I'm a special agent...._was_ a special agent. Now I'm just a traffic cop." He said that last with more than a little bitterness.

"Preventers? What's that?" Without waiting for an answer, Yuuri continued, "And you're not, um, Japanese, are you?"

"Chinese, actually. From the L5 cluster," Wufei said, crisply, hoping to discourage further questions in that direction. He did not intend to discuss the destruction of his home colony with this boy.

"L5 cluster?" Yuuri was clearly puzzled.

"Colony cluster," Wufei said, impatiently. "In space. Surely you've heard of them...?"

His voice trailed off at Yuuri's open delight. "Oh, you're from outer space? That's really cool! And that explains the whole thing about the date! But," his expression sobered. "I wonder where those guys fetched you from. It doesn't sound like you're from my world—we only have one space station up, and astronauts have reached the moon, but no one actually _lives_ in space."

During the period spent studying physics as part of his pilot training, one of Wufei's professors had speculated on the possibility that multiple parallel universes existed, side by side in adjoining dimensions, and had scribbled a number of highly theoretical equations on the blackboard to support his wild suppositions.

Wufei hadn't paid close attention to the digression, since his focus at the time had been applied physics in relation to piloting his Gundam, but parallel universes did seem to be a popular literary device for science fiction writers.

Could parallel universes really exist? And had he ended up in one?

It was absurd to contemplate, but then again, so was a mysterious abduction from the heart of Preventers HQ and subsequent imprisonment in a place that resembled a medieval dungeon in appearance and general technological levels.

"How did you get here, Wufei-san?" Yuuri asked.

Wufei frowned. "I'm not quite certain. One minute, I was in the, ah, restroom at work, and the next minute...it sounds crazy, but the water started glowing, and...sucked me in...and then I was here, and a group of men started talking to me about overthrowing someone called the Maou, who I believe is a monarch of some sort."

He glanced at Yuuri to see how the boy was creating to this insane-sounding story, but instead of disbelief, Yuuri was nodding a little.

Wufei continued: "I take it that this Maou is something of a reformer, and from what I've heard, I think his rule is more than fair and just. Certainly, he seems to be doing a better job than these incompetents would manage, and I told them so."

Yuuri's eyes went wide. "I guess they didn't take that too well?"

Wufei shook his head. "Nor when I told them I had no desire to become their figurehead Maou."

He smiled unpleasantly, and Yuuri shrank back. "Chang-san, I mean, Wufei-san, you're kinda scary when you look like that."

_Reassure the civilians._ Wufei sighed, and made a deliberate effort to blank his expression. "Sorry. Anyhow, I don't think I was cut out to be a king--I've never had any desire to go into politics. My skills lie in other areas. And right now, I just want to get back to my job. I'm in enough trouble with my boss as it is."

"Oh, I'm so sorry for all the trouble!" Yuuri said, stepping back from the bars and bowing deeply.

Wufei blinked, taken by surprise. Yuuri seemed to be carrying the Japanese custom of apologizing at the drop of a hat just a little too far. "_You're_ sorry? Why?"

"Well, they brought you here because they thought you were Mazoku, and wanted to make you the next Maou."

This gave Wufei the conversational opening he'd been hoping for. "So, you're here for the same reason? They pulled you from your world to use you to replace their rightful ruler? And now you feel responsible because they rejected you and tried again with me?"

"Something like that." Yuuri sighed and rumpled his hair again. "I was on my way here, um, to visit some friends, when they somehow diverted me, but yes, they captured me as part of their plot." He sighed again. "Gwendal is going to kill me when he finds out," he muttered.

"Look," said Wufei. "I don't know how yet, but I'm definitely going to get you out of here. Once we've escaped, we can figure out what to do next."

"Okay," said Yuuri. "But how are you going to escape? These cells—the walls have _houseki_ crystals. You can't use any magic." He swallowed hard. "They make me feel like I'm about to throw up."

Ah. There was some sort of substance embedded in the cells meant to keep them weakened? Well, that explained some things, but not--

"Magic?" Wufei bit back sarcasm with an effort--_reassure and establish a rapport with the civilians, Chang!_--and settled for incredulity. "I couldn't use magic even if the cells didn't have the, ah, whatever-they-are crystals." He fished out the lock-picks, and held them up to show Yuuri. "But I have _other_ skills."

With a quick look up and down the corridor to make sure no guards were coming, Wufei slid his arms through the interstices in the iron bars, performed some minor contortions, and began to pick the lock.

Between the crudity of his jury-rigged tools, and the stiffness of the massive (but mercifully simple) lock, it proved to be a struggle, especially since he couldn't really see what he was doing and had to proceed purely by touch and guesswork.

Yuuri watched him with great interest.

As he worked, Wufei took the opportunity to perform a quick skills assessment on his fellow prisoner. He didn't hold high hopes of the kid knowing anything that might be useful in an escape, but you never knew.

"Well, I've been learning a little bit about sword-fighting, but I'm not very good at it," Yuuri said apologetically in response to Wufei's questions about his weapons knowledge.

His answers confirmed Wufei's first impression of the kid as a pure civilian. No doubt, he'd had a high school fencing class or two, with those pitiful blunted toy rapiers and a method of combat so stylized as to be useless in a real-world fight.

No martial arts training, either, though Yuuri told him proudly that his horsemanship was quite good now.

Wufei tried not to sigh out loud at the additional responsibility looming over him as he continued to work at his lock. He had no doubt he could overpower anyone standing in his way, but things could get complicated with a civilian to baby-sit.

But he couldn't just leave Yuuri here, either.

Wufei's fingers were starting to cramp and his improvised lock-picks were growing slick with sweat when the lock finally yielded to his efforts and released with an audible clunk.

No doubt that Duo Maxwell, accomplished thief and escape artist, would have mocked him, had he been here. (_Still too slow, Chang! If this were a real B&E, the cops would be all over you by now,_ Duo had been fond of admonishing while teaching Wufei the basics.)

_But still, not too bad_, Wufei thought, shaking the circulation back into his aching hands.

"Okay, Yuuri-kun, it's your turn." He pushed open the cell grating with the squeal of poorly-oiled hinges, and slipped out into the corridor.

"You're amazing, Wufei-san," Yuuri said sincerely as Wufei knelt in front of his cell.

"It's nothing," Wufei said uncomfortably, as he inserted the first pick and began probing. "I have a co-worker—a friend, actually—who could have done this in half the time."

Working the lock was much easier from this angle, and Wufei was making good progress when Yuuri whispered urgently, "Someone's coming!"

Wufei cursed under his breath, and straightened up, hoping to make it back to his cell before one of the guards spotted him.

Too late. Wufei cursed again.

"Hey, you! What are you doing--?" The guard, paunchy and wearing a stained uniform, was balancing a tray of food in either hand.

His look of surprise was comical, in the instant before Wufei felled him with a single blow. The crudely-carved wooden trenchers skidded across the stone floor, pieces of bread and wooden cups of water bouncing in their wake.

Wufei followed up with precisely-aimed kick to the man's head, to make sure he stayed down and unconscious. A quick search yielded a dagger and a small pouch of coins, but no keys.

_Of course. That would have been too easy._ Wufei thought with exasperation. He turned back in Yuuri's direction, stooping to retrieve his dropped lock-picks.

He had scarcely re-inserted the first one, when he heard a shout echoing from somewhere down the corridor, where it bent in a sharp turn. "Arnaulf! What was that noise. What's going on back there?"

"Wufei-san," Yuuri whispered urgently. "They're coming! You have to go now!"

"Not leaving without you," Wufei replied shortly, glaring at the recalcitrant lock, as if trying to unlock it through sheer force of will.

Trying to hurry without hurrying and making stupid mistakes, he bent his concentration on probing the lock, trying to remember the sequence that had worked for his cell door.

The tread of booted feet echoed down the corridor.

"Wufei-san!" Yuuri knelt, so that he and Wufei were face-to-face. " Listen to me—You _have_ to leave! Go to Blood Pledge Castle, and tell Konrad—uh, Sir Konrad Weller—where I am. He'll help you."

"You there! Prisoner! Stay where you are, or we'll kill you!"

Wufei cast a desperate look at the men drawing closer, then back at the lock. There was no way he could open it in time.

He pushed himself to his feet, and turned to face the two guards pounding down the corridor. They had both drawn their swords. _Damn_.

Hoping for the element of surprise, Wufei attacked, taking out the man in the lead with a flying kick. He turned aside the second guard's blade with the dagger, then picked up the first guard's dropped sword, and dispatched his opponent with a neat thrust through the base of his throat.

The man fell with a choking gurgle. A pool of blood spread out from beneath his body, black in the flickering torchlight.

"Is—is he dead?" Yuuri asked, unnecessarily.

Wufei didn't bother answering the question. He was sorry that the kid had been forced to witness death at close hand, but it had been unavoidable.

But his troubles weren't over. The fight, brief as it was, had also been noisy. Wufei heard other shouts approaching, and the sound of a clanging bell.

"GO!" Yuuri shouted. He pointed in the direction that the guards had come from. "There's a stairway leading up—I think it's the only way out of here."

Wufei nodded, tightly, hating himself for agreeing to desert the kid. "I'm sorry!" he said to Yuuri. "I promise I'll come back for you!"

Knowing that hesitating any longer would ruin all chances for escape, he turned on his heel, and began to run in the direction that Yuuri had indicated.

"Remember—tell Konrad Weller," Yuuri shouted after him. "Or Gwendel von Voltaire...or Wolfram von Bielefeld...or Günter von—" The last of his words were lost as Wufei rounded the corner.

Wufei felt awful about leaving the kid behind, but on the other hand, now he didn't have to worry about getting Yuuri injured or killed.

_Konrad Weller, eh?_ He thought as he pounded down the corridor. It was good to know that the kid might have some friends in this strange place. Maybe this Konrad person could help Wufei stage a rescue operation.

But how did Yuuri know these people at Blood Pledge Castle? His story had implied that he traveled regularly between his world and this place. That boded well for Wufei's chances of getting back home, but how did Yuuri...

_One problem at a time_, Wufei told himself, as he spotted a set of tightly-spiraling stone stairs leading upwards. Right now, his priorities were to escape, then to find the kid's friends, and then to return to rescue the kid.

There was one man guarding the stairs, but he was occupied in yanking a bell-pull for the alarm, and didn't spot Wufei until it was too late.

Wufei cut his throat with cold efficiency, and scrambled up the narrow stairs. The alarm bell, though silenced now, was sure to bring reinforcements.

He emerged into what looked like a guard-room, the walls hung with weapons, with small, iron-barred windows set into thick stone walls. A crude wooden table, flanked by equally crude benches stood at one end of the chamber, in front of a large fireplace.

In a stroke of luck, the room was empty.

At least he was now aboveground, thought Wufei. He spotted a door made of age-darkened wood banded with black iron, and opened it cautiously, just an inch or two at first.

He peered out, and saw a graveled courtyard surrounded by wings of the fortified stone building. The only way out appeared to be through an arched gateway leading between two towers.

The courtyard felt strangely deserted. For a building this size, shouldn't there be more staff in evidence?

And, even more strange, there were no vehicles parked in the courtyard. Wufei had been hoping to spot an unattended car or truck he might hot-wire. Hell, even a motorcycle would do—if he was pursued, a bike could go places where a heavier vehicle couldn't. He had learned that lesson well in his time as a freedom fighter for the colonies.

As Wufei waited and watched, he saw a man enter the courtyard, leading a saddled horse. He had to open and shut the gate himself, Wufei noticed. This place was definitely short-staffed.

The man led the horse into a ramshackle-looking set of wooden sheds built against one wall of the courtyard. Hoping that no one was watching from any of the narrow, barred windows piercing the upper stories, Wufei tucked the sword and dagger through his belt, slipped out of the guardroom, and ran swiftly across the courtyard to the sheds.

Maybe there were vehicles parked inside the sheds, he thought hopefully.

To his dismay, the sheds proved to be stables, containing nothing but...horses.

_Horses_. Wufei cursed softly. He could hot-wire any vehicle in existence, but how the hell was he supposed to escape on horseback?

Heero Yuy was the one whose training had included the archaic skills of horsemanship and ballroom dancing, so that he could go undercover among the children of the aristocrats.

Wufei had only ever _read _about horseback riding.

Then again, how hard could it be? Especially since one of the mounts was already saddled up?

Wufei crept up behind the new arrival, occupied in busily unbuckling one of the saddle straps, and swiftly disabled him with a blow from the heavy pommel of his sword. He tied up and gagged the man using a variety of thin leather straps conveniently hanging from pegs and hooks, and dragged him into one of the unoccupied stalls, leaving his victim partially buried in a mound of clean straw.

Warily approaching the very large horse, Wufei avoided those huge hooves, re-fastened the loosened buckles and straps, and cautiously led the beast back outside to the courtyard. It followed him docilely enough for a beast whose head easily topped Wufei's modest height.

Once back outside, Wufei went to the gate. Lifting the heavy crossbar, he pushed it open. The gateway was a short tunnel through the width of the building, with a set of doors at either end. No sentries stationed inside the gateway, that he could see.

What was going on here? Wufei wondered, disconcerted by the relative ease of his escape so far.

"There he is! Stop him!" It was almost a relief to hear shouts behind him, and the crunch of gravel under booted feet.

Wufei ran into the passageway, towing the startled horse behind him.

The doors on the far end began to swing ponderously shut. Wufei ran faster, and the horse, thankfully, did not resist but kept up with a steady clatter of iron-shod feet against flagstones.

Wufei saw the figure of a man silhouetted against the bright daylight, just before he reached the narrowing gap of light, and pushed back with all his strength.

The impact jarred his arms to the shoulders, but he managed to stop the heavy door from closing further. Slipping through the gap, he dropped the horse's reins, hoping the animal wouldn't bolt back the way they had come, and confronted the gate's lone sentry.

Wufei scarcely had time to draw his stolen sword before the soldier, a skinny young man who looked to be the same age as Wufei, was swinging wildly at him.

Wufei ducked the blow, and heard his opponent's sword bite deeply into the wood of the partially-open gate behind him. Before the young guard could pull his weapon free, Wufei took him out with a blow from the flat of his sword along his opponent's jaw.

The horse was still standing where Wufei had left him, but stamping nervously as two more men crowded into the far end of the tunnel and began running toward them.

Wufei grabbed the horse's reins, and led the beast hurriedly out of the gateway. Then, he boosted himself up in the stirrups, and swung astride.

Feeling like an extremely conspicuous target, Wufei sat up straight and kicked his heels into the horse's side, as he'd seen depicted in countless historical movies and shows.

The horse moved forward one step, then turned its head to fix Wufei with a puzzled stare.

His pursuers were drawing closer, and the downed sentry was starting to stir.

Desperately, Wufei leaned forward, and shouted, "Go!"

The horse went, bolting forward.

Wufei gave up all hopes of actually directing the beast, and concentrated on simply staying in the saddle as the shouts of pursuit faded behind him.


	4. Maou

Following his escape from the fortified house, Wufei's plan to summon help from Yuuri's Lord Weller ran into a serious obstacle.

Put simply, Wufei realized that he had not the faintest idea where this Blood Pledge Castle might be, and possessed no GPS unit or even an old-fashioned paper map to assist with the search.

He spent the first half-day after his escape from captivity riding through a very pretty but utterly inhabited forest after he directed his recalcitrant mount off the heavily rutted dirt road that passed for a highway, trying to shake off any pursuers.

When he finally reached cultivated fields, he encountered a pair of farmers, husband and wife by the looks of it.

They bowed to him with obvious deference, and offered his mount a drink of water from their well. They also insisted on sharing their humble midday meal with Wufei--a jug of beer, chewy chunks of plain but freshly-baked bread, hard-boiled eggs, and pickled vegetables.

To his relief, not only had they heard of Blood Pledge Castle, they could give him directions.

"So, you're you going to see His Majesty the Maou, then, my lord?" the man asked, after he finished sketching out a quick map of major landmarks in the soft dirt.

"I have business in the castle, yes," Wufei answered with polite wariness, looking up from his efforts to memorize the map. If he was reading the signs correctly, it looked like he had been riding in entirely the wrong direction for most of the day. _Damn it!_ "But I've never met this Maou of yours--what's he like?"

"His Majesty, the Great Demon King, is very powerful. He even defeated Shoushu," said the farmwife, putting her hands on her hips, as if daring Wufei to contradict her. "But he's a fair and just ruler, not like _some_ of the Mazoku in these parts...begging your pardon, my lord," she added.

"You _look_ like a Mazoku, but I don't recognize your accent...where are you from?" said the farmer, with hesitant inquiry.

Wufei blinked in surprise. "What makes you think I'm Mazoku?" Walther and his co-conspirators had been awfully sure of that as well.

"Why, you've got black hair and black eyes, my lord, and you're wearing a uniform," answered the woman, with the patient tone of someone pointing out the obvious. "Though I don't recognize the crest on your badge."

Wufei glanced down at himself. His Preventers dress uniform was much the worse for wear, the trousers wrinkled and stained, formerly spit-polished shoes now sadly scuffed and muddied, but the organization's logo was still prominent on the right breast of his jacket.

"I'm on an important mission," he said, shortly. "And I need to get to the castle as quickly as possible. Thank you for your help, and for the refreshments." He gave them both a curt bow, then wearily climbed back on his mount.

ooOoo

Wufei finally arrived at Blood Pledge Castle the following day, starving and sore in every muscle from bouncing around on the back of the horse he had stolen, but having achieved, at last, a truce with the beast.

The castle towered high on a hill, its round stone towers visible for miles. It was surrounded by a town comprised of charming half-timbered houses in a traditional European style, separated by cobbled streets and neat squares with stone fountains that apparently served as the town's water supply.

His dusty and disheveled appearance drew discreet stares, but no one challenged him until he and the horse had staggered up the last incline to the castle's gates.

There were two guards stationed just outside the gates. They drew to attention as Wufei approached. "Your business in the castle?" barked one of them, a balding man.

"Sir Konrad Weller," Wufei replied curtly, "Is he here?"

He was too fatigued--and hungry-- to try to dredge up politenesses in German from the recesses of his brain.

The balding guard blinked. "What's your business with him, boy?"

_Boy?_ True, he was only seventeen, but..._boy?_ Wufei glared at him. "I have an important message for him."

The two guards stepped back briefly to confer. Wufei caught only snatches of their debate.

"—a courier? Hell, he doesn't even have a saddlebag—" The balding guard jerked a thumb in Wufei's direction.

"But he's just a kid—" said his companion, who was scarcely five years Wufei's senior, tall and extremely skinny.

"—he's wearing a sword. And that's quality horseflesh he's riding, and the saddle looks expensive, too—"

While they continued to discuss whether to admit him to the castle, Wufei decided to dismount. He'd been on top of the beast far longer than any civilized human being ought to be.

He slid down from the saddle with a suppressed groan. His legs felt as wobbly as a newborn fawn's, and he clung to the stirrup, swaying a little as he fought for his balance.

"All right," said the balding guard, finally, coming back over to Wufei, and scrutinizing him. "We'll send someone to inquire whether Lord Weller is available to receive visitors. May we ask what this is concerning?" he asked, in a tone so polite as to be condescending.

"I have a message from a guy named Yuuri. Shibuya Yuuri. He asked me to tell Sir K—"

Wufei didn't even manage to finish his sentence before the guards' tolerant, slightly insolent demeanor changed dramatically, and Wufei found himself being hustled through the gates with deep bows.

Once inside, things happened rapidly. The guards shouted for grooms to take Wufei's horse. (After their long ordeal together, the horse looked quite relieved to be parted from Wufei. The feeling was entirely mutual.)

Wufei himself was politely but firmly escorted inside one of the many buildings crowding the space inside the castle's walls.

To Wufei's fatigued-fogged senses, it seemed that no more than five minutes passed between the time he arrived at the castle, and the time he found himself seated in a comfortable reception room, with pretty young serving maid pouring hot tea, and a generous assortment of sandwiches, slices of cake, and cookies spread out on the little table at his elbow.

"Please, help yourself, m'lord!" she said with a warm smile, handing him the cup of tea. Then she was gone in a light whiff of rose perfume and a flounce of ruffled skirts.

Wufei's stomach growled noisily, and he made short work of most of the sandwiches. It was the best food he'd seen—and eaten--in days.

Feeling considerably restored, he had munched his way through two of the excellent cookies, and was contemplating a third, a pretty piped round with a jewel-colored jam center, when the door to the reception chamber flew open.

A young man with curling golden hair and a neat blue uniform entered.

"You know where Yuuri is?" demanded the boy, pinning Wufei with an intense green gaze.

The room suddenly hummed with suppressed power, and Wufei found his senses tingling in same way that they had just before Walther von Christ had done...that thing...with the water.

Wufei met the boy's eyes as coolly as he could. "Are you Sir Konrad Weller?"

"What? No?" the boy said, impatiently. "Konrad's my...brother."

Wufei noted the slight pause, and wondered.

"I'm Wolfram—Wolfram von Bielefeld. Yuuri's fiancé," the boy continued, with a proud lift of his chin. "Is he okay? What happened to him?"

_Fiance?_ Wufei blinked. Yuuri certainly was a boy of many surprises, he thought, then pushed aside the distraction. "We were fellow prisoners—" he began, but stopped when the door opened again.

The new arrival was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties, with stern features and long gray-streaked brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Mr. Wufei Chang?" asked the man, with deep-voiced courtesy, as he strode in. "I am Gwendal von Voltaire, the Regent of Shin Makoku. I was told that you bear a message from Yuuri Shibuya. When did you last see him? Is he well?"

Yuuri was acquainted with the Regent of this kingdom? _Stranger and stranger._ "I believe he is, but he was in considerable danger when I—" Wufei was interrupted by yet more arrivals, a pair of them this time.

One was a tall, lithe man in a tan-and-red uniform, with short brown hair and a kind expression. He radiated a calm energy, in contrast to his companion, a very pretty man dressed in flowing white clothes, with long, pale hair, expressive violet eyes, and a flustered air.

"Sir Konrad Weller and Sir Günther von Christ, this is Wufei Chang. And now, that we are all here," Gwendal von Voltaire said, dryly, "Our guest can tell his tale without interruption." He looked at Wufei. "Pray continue—you said that you felt Yuuri is in danger?"

"Von Christ?" Wufei said, startled. He gave the long-haired man a hard stare, which was returned with violet-eyed innocence and a flutter of lashes. He said to Gwendal: "Are you _sure_ you can trust him?"

Gwendal looked startled. "Of course-- Sir Günther is the Maou's personal tutor, and one of my most trusted advisors. Why do you ask?

"Because a man who called himself Walther von Christ told me that they were just waiting for a few others to arrive, before they held an execution for me and Yuuri," Wufei answered, bluntly.

The tall, silver-haired man fumbled his tea cup. "I don't believe it," he muttered. "That fool...he's taken Yuuri captive?"

"Perhaps you'd better start from the beginning," Konrad said, and Wufei nodded.

As briefly as he could, he related the events that had occurred from the time he was taken from the Preventer's restroom.

"...in any case," finished Wufei. "There's no time to lose. Those rebels snatched Yuuri from his homeworld, as they snatched me from mine. I think they were planning to use him to overthrow this Maou of yours."

He became aware that all four of his listeners were wearing incredulous expressions that ranged in intensity from amazement to anger. Irritated, he snapped, "What? You don't believe me?"

"Did Yuuri actually _tell_ you all this?" demanded Wolfram.

"Not in so many words," admitted Wufei, "but it seems a reasonable surmise, based on what I learned from the rebels. Your Maou needs to be alerted that he's got an armed insurrection brewing in his kingdom, and we need to go back for Yuuri before Von Christ and his cronies decide to...take action."

An awkward silence descended as Konrad, Wolfram, and Günther all looked at Gwendal.

Gwendal cleared his throat. "Mr. Chang," he said quietly. "Yuuri _is_ the Maou."

"What?" Wufei gaped at him foolishly for a long moment. Then anger took over. That puppy-eyed boy had played him for a fool!

"You mean to tell me?" he asked, just to be certain, his voice icy and precise with rage, "that _Yuuri_—Shibuya Yuuri, Japanese high school student, looks about sixteen years old--is really the Great Demon King? That he could have freed himself any time he wanted? That I rode cross-country for two days on the back of that jolting, ill-tempered beast for _nothing?_"

Even as he spoke, Wufei found himself thinking that as an undercover operative, Yuuri was a natural. Not even Trowa, with his infiltration skills, could have come close to _this._ Never in a million years would Wufei have pegged Yuuri as the great reformer and awe-inspiring ruler that others spoke of.

"That wimp _always_ needs rescuing—" began Wolfram, with affectionate exasperation.

Konrad cut Wolfram off. "Mr. Chang, we have never known Yuuri to use his magic for his own benefit. As Maou, his powers are the strongest of our race, but he seems to be able to invoke them only when he needs to protect others," the tall, brown-haired man said quietly.

"And from the description of your captivity," added Günther. "It's clear that your cells were indeed lined with _houseki_ crystals, to prevent either of you from using your _maryoku_. _You_ were able to escape because you had other skills to fall back on, and were willing to kill those who opposed you. Yuuri...His Majesty has a gentle soul." He clasped his hands to his breast with a rapturous sigh.

_Is this guy for real?_ thought Wufei in disgust.

"He's a wimp." Wolfram snorted, earning him a violet-eyed glare from the womanish-looking Sir Günter.

Wufei found himself agreeing with Wolfram—Yuuri was about as far from appearing a powerful head of state as he could imagine. He was just a boy, and a pretty average-seeming one at that.

Wufei wondered what it was about Yuuri that seemed to inspire such loyalty in his retainers. The boy had seemed naïve and hopelessly inexperienced to him—how could someone like _that_ capture and hold the respect of seasoned warriors and politicians?

Then again, he'd never understood the charisma exerted by Relena Peacecraft, who had also been a hopelessly-naïve, sheltered miss in the beginning.

"Yuuri is strong in his own way, but his way is not the way of the soldier," Konrad continued. "Rather, his strength lies in his unique ability to gain the love and trust of not only his people, but also Shin Makoku's enemies. In the brief period of his reign so far, he has done more to ensure the safety of this land than any of his recent predecessors."

"And he has _us_ to fight for him when there's fighting to be done," added Wolfram, puffing out his chest.

"We'll get a rescue party together straightaway," said the stern-looking Gwendal, then put a hand out to restrain Wolfram, who had half-turned, as if preparing to dash out the door. "But a _discreet_ one, if you please. No sense in advertising Yuuri's present circumstances to our kingdom's enemies."

"I agree it should be done quietly," Konrad said. "I'll go, of course."

"You're not leaving me behind!" declared Wolfram.

"And we should probably bring Josak," Konrad continued. He looked consideringly at Günther. "Will you come?"

"Anything to help His Beloved Majesty the Maou!" exclaimed Günther, theatrically. "And if Walther _is_ really involved with this plot, then I am duty-bound to stop him."

Wufei considered Günther skeptically, but then gave an internal shrug. The man looked unreliable with his effeminate airs and affected speech, but it wasn't his call.

"Where, exactly, did you say you were held captive?" Konrad was asking.

"To the east of here, one or two days by horse, I'm not exactly certain since I, um, got lost coming here," Wufei repeated, as he had stated earlier when he was relating his adventures. "It's a big, fortified house surrounded by a forest."

"That describes a lot of places in this kingdom," Gwendal said, looking weary.

"I'm sure I'll be able to retrace my steps," Wufei assured them.

All of the men in the room looked at him as if trying to formulate a protest. Before they could articulate any objection, Wufei added, firmly, "Of course I'm coming with you to rescue Yuuri—I mean, the Maou."

"You've done enough, Mr. Chang, just by bringing us word of his whereabouts," Konrad said, gently.

Wufei flushed under his assessing gaze, all-too-aware of the picture he must present with his dirty and torn clothing, his youth, and his wiry, rather...short frame. Especially when contrasted by how tall and well-built Konrad, Günther, and Gwendal all were.

As least Wolfram wasn't built along those strapping lines. And if Wolfram was allowed to go, then Wufei was _not_ going to be left behind.

"I _have_ to go," he insisted, and in the face of Konrad's continued skepticism, added bitterly, "I was forced to leave without Yuuri—he was my responsibility, and _I left him behind_." He all but shouted that last, and calmed himself with an effort. His failure had eaten away at him like acid over the past few days, eroding his pride and his sense of self-worth.

"We can't afford to babysit a civilian—" Wolfram began, with a contemptuous curl of his lip.

"I am a trained and experienced soldier," Wufei cut him off. "You can test me, if you like. My horsemanship isn't much to write home about," he smiled wryly, "but I'm equally comfortable with a sword or unarmed combat. I'm also skilled in the use of guns and explosives, but I haven't noticed either of those types of weapons in common use around here."

"We have large pieces of artillery and gunpowder, but not the small personal sidearms found in your world," Konrad agreed. He looked at Gwendal. "What do you think? Shall we test him?"

"It can't hurt," Gwendal said, slowly.

Wufei rose to his feet, eager to prove himself despite his weariness.

Gwendal quirked a tiny smile, more a straightening of the lips in that grim visage than anything else. "Let our visitor have a bath, a meal, and a good night's sleep, first though," he amended. "It's nearly sunset, and we'll need until tomorrow morning to provision and arm a rescue party. Meet us in the main courtyard at dawn, Mr. Chang."

Wufei gave him a slight bow. "Thank you, sir. You won't be disappointed."

Gwendal's gaze rested on him for a long moment. "No," he said finally, "I don't think I will be."

ooOoo

After a hearty supper to supplement the sandwiches and cake, a long soak in a hot bath to relieve his abused muscles, and a good night's sleep in a luxurious guest room that was larger than Wufei's entire apartment, followed by a generous breakfast served in his room in the gray darkness before dawn, Wufei felt ready to get back in the saddle.

If only his ass didn't still hurt as if bruises had formed on top of bruises from sitting on the damned beast for two straight days. And he had just volunteered to do it again. Because it was the only honorable course of action.

Wincing, he got dressed by candlelight (his uniform had been laundered overnight, and delivered with his breakfast) and moved through his morning Tai Chi Chuan training forms, letting his muscles loosen up in preparation for having to prove his martial skills to Yuuri's friends.

He finished just before a young guardsman came to fetch him, lantern in hand, with the polite request that Wufei bring his sword along.

Wufei followed his guide down gloomy corridors before emerging into the castle's main courtyard. It was still early enough that the courtyard lay in deep shadow. and the castle buildings were still only dark silhouettes against a still-black sky. There, he found Konrad was waiting for him.

After exchanging greetings and answering courteous inquiries as to his rest and comfort, Konrad got down to business. He eyed Wufei's sword doubtfully. "Is that yours?"

"No. I took it from the one of the guards in that dungeon," Wufei answered, hefting the weapon. "It has lousy balance."

"Ah." Konrad's calm expression did not alter, but somehow Wufei felt he had passed a test. "Perhaps we should first visit the armory and find you a more suitable weapon."

"I would appreciate that," Wufei said, inclining his head in Konrad's direction.

The armory proved to be a large set of storerooms just off the courtyard, crowded with racks holding many different sorts of weapons: pole-axes, lances, maces, bows, and, of course, swords of all kinds, from a huge gilt-engraved broadsword that _had_ to be parade weapon, for it looked too unwieldy for actual battle, down to slender rapiers.

One sword in particular caught his eye. It hung in a space apart from the others, crowned with an elaborate hilt that had an odd, skull-like face set into it. Wufei went over to take a look at it, and the sword gave a despairing moan.

He jumped a little, then glanced around to make sure no one had seen his breach of dignity.

"That's Morgif, the legendary demon sword," Konrad said, approaching Wufei, a bundle of swords cradled in his arms. "It's Yuuri's personal weapon."

Morgif gave another yowling moan, and this time, Wufei saw the skull-face contort. "It's..._sentient?_" he asked, in disbelief.

Konrad nodded. "I don't advise touching it. Only a Maou can wield it." His brow furrowed. "I can't help think that if Yuuri had had Morgif when he was captured--but, never mind that… Here," He extended the bundle of swords, "I've taken the liberty of selecting a few possible weapons for you, based on your height and reach. Will you test them out, and let me know what you think? If none of them suit, there are plenty more."

Wufei turned away from Morgif, his curiosity unsatisfied. He had many questions, but they would have to wait.

Konrad certainly knew a lot about swords, Wufei soon concluded. All of the selected weapons were a pleasure to handle, and it was difficult to select just one. Finally, having settled on a well-balanced saber similar to his own_ Liuyedao,_ Wufei allowed Konrad to wrap the blade with rags in preparation for their duel.

Then they went back outside to the courtyard, where Wufei was dismayed to discover that a small crowd had gathered to witness the test. Wolfram was there, as were Günther, Gwendal, and a muscular man with red hair and bright blue eyes, who was introduced as Josak. A number of the castle's servants and men-at-arms had also joined the onlookers.

Regretting the lack of his usual loose workout clothing, Wufei shed the heavy jacket of his Preventers dress uniform, and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

Konrad did not bother, looking as neat and trim in his red-trimmed tan uniform tunic and trousers as if he were still the reception room.

With a brief salute, Konrad made his first sally, and Wufei deftly parried. Some of the onlookers oohed and aaahed, and Wufei frowned briefly in irritation, then pushed aside the distraction to concentrate on his opponent.

The two of them sparred cautiously for a few minutes, the blow of blade against blade muffled by the protective layers of cloth, each feeling out the other's strengths and style.

Konrad was good…_very_ good, Wufei realized quickly. And he was still holding back…was it because of Wufei's perceived youth and inexperience?

If so, they were wasting valuable time. He had to show them what he was capable of, Wufei decided. In the next pass, he launched a more aggressive attack, which combined a sweep of his sword immediately followed by a scything kick.

To his astonishment, Konrad smoothly parried, then evaded the follow-up strike, leaning just far enough away so that Wufei's foot only brushed the shoulder of his uniform.

A little off-balance, Wufei was hard-pressed to counter Konrad's next move, a thrusting lunge. He spun away, feinted, and leaped into the air, somersaulting over Konrad's head in an attempt to catch his undefended back.

It didn't work, and again, Konrad's counter-attack was lightning-fast.

In fact, the pace of the duel had picked up considerably from its cautious start. Wufei forgot about the onlookers, forgot about Yuuri, and focused all of his attention on Konrad, centering himself and letting his _qi_ direct and power his moves.

This was fun, Wufei realized, being matched evenly against an opponent good enough that he didn't have to dial back any of his abilities.

Among the Preventers, only Heero Yuy could match Wufei's martial ability, but Heero's specialties were sniper shooting and piloting, not _wushu_ or the archaic art of the sword.

How long _had_ it been, since Wufei had fought such a worthy opponent?

_Not since Treize, surely…_

The memory of Treize, his strange but admirable enemy, made Wufei falter for a second. He paid for his brief moment of distraction as Konrad's sword landed a stinging blow against his left bicep, hard enough to bruise.

Wufei sprang back, gave Konrad a wolfish grin to acknowledge the blow, and lunged, hoping the speed of his thrust would allow him to slip under Konrad's guard.

With a jarring impact that vibrated clear up his right arm and into his chest, Wufei felt his sword fly out of his numbed hand. In the next instant, he found himself sitting on the packed earth of the courtyard, winded and gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of him.

The tip of Konrad's swathed sword pressed against Wufei's neck. Panting, he looked up at his opponent.

Konrad was breathing a little harder now, but otherwise, looked almost as unruffled as he had at the beginning of the duel, damn him!

"I yield," Wufei said grudgingly.

Konrad lowered his sword, and extended a hand to help Wufei up.

Once back on his feet, Wufei bowed deeply. "Thank you for the match. It was an honor to duel with you."

Konrad smiled, and returned the bow. "The honor was mine," he replied, with equal sincerity. "You're an excellent swordsman. Your teacher must be very proud of you."

"I could say the same of you," Wufei said.

Konrad's smile turned to a grin, and he bowed in Günther's direction. "Did you hear that, o esteemed instructor?"

"What--_him?_" Wufei was startled enough to actually speak out loud. That violet-haired, excitable…_fop_…was Konrad's master in the art of the sword?

"Don't let his mannerisms fool you," Konrad murmured. "Günther is one of the finest swordsmen in Shin Makoku, and he was a respected instructor at the Royal Military Academy for many years. He would rather be liked than feared, though, and tries very hard to appear…harmless."

"I…see," Wufei said, though he still couldn't reconcile his initial impression of Günther with the description that he'd just been given.

"I'm sure you will soon grow to respect Günther, as we all do," Konrad assured him. "Now, may I hold your sword for this next assessment?"

Wufei handed him the saber, and Konrad stepped back.

"Okay, my turn, kiddo," Josak said, stepping forward and cracking his knuckles with a wide grin. "I'll try not to hurt you. Unless you'd like a few minutes to rest up, first?"

_Hah!_ Wufei sneered at the suggestion. If he found a few minutes of enjoyable swordplay exhausting, then he didn't deserve to accompany these men on their mission!

Josak had barely finished speaking when Wufei struck with a first, probing blow. Josak parried with his forearm, and countered with a hard punch that whooshed past Wufei's cheek as he turned to avoid it.

Within a couple of minutes, he had ascertained that while Josak was good, he relied too much on his superior reach and his predictions as what Wufei was going to do next.

Winning this match was going to be easy, thought Wufei. All he had to do was mislead Josak with his body language.

He feinted with a blow to Josak's head, and when Josak took the bait and raised his arms to shield, Wufei landed a hard kick in Josak's midsection.

The tall, red-haired man crumpled to the ground with an explosive 'oof!' and lay there.

The match was over.

Wufei gave the red-haired man a curt bow. "Thank you for the match," he said formally, though in reality, Josak hadn't proved to be much of an opponent. Not like Konrad Weller...

Wufei glanced up at the rapidly-lightening sky to ascertain the time, then looked over at assembled onlookers. "If you have no more tests for me," he said curtly, Yuuri's impending execution pressing heavily upon his ingrained sense of responsibility, "I suggest we get going. It's a long ride."

"Agreed." Konrad inclined his head. "The horses have been saddled, and their bags packed with supplies. Is there anything you'd like bring along?"

Wufei considered a moment. "Gunpowder, if you have any," he said, and smiled tightly. "I can think of a few uses for it."

When they rode out of the castle a short while later, the pack-horse bore a small barrel of black powder, carefully wrapped in oilcloth to protect it from any rain showers.

Wufei only hoped that they would reach Yuuri in time.


	5. Love and Justice!

"I think we made it just in time to rescue the Young Master," Josak reported that evening, slipping silently into the wooded copse that lay just beyond the manor house where Wufei had previously been held prisoner. "Looks like the execution is tonight's grand event."

"Good," said Wufei, deeply relieved.

There was definitely a festive atmosphere surrounding the manor--the drive leading up to the gate blazed with torches mounted on stands, and more torches illuminated the fortified house's façade. Faint strains of music drifted through the cold spring night, and a steady stream of carriages rolled up the long, curving drive. The carriages' passengers, what glimpses Wufei caught of them as they left their vehicles and walked through the gates, were richly dressed, as if for a ball.

"What _exactly_ do you mean by that?" growled Wolfram. The pretty blond boy had been growing steadily tenser as the day passed.

The ride from Blood Pledge Castle had gone considerably faster than Wufei's solo journey, since he hadn't gotten lost this time, and Konrad had also been able to command hot meals and fresh horses from the royal posting-stations along the way.

Wufei, without money and only a single horse, had been forced to sleep under hedgerows and had been delayed by the necessity of allowing his mount frequent breaks to rest, graze, and drink. Traveling in the company of the Maou's retainers was a definite improvement in his standard of traveling.

"Wufei means that it will make things easier for us if we don't have to figure out a way to sneak into the dungeon," answered Josak, with one of his amiable grins.

Wufei nodded agreement, and Wolfram settled down, albeit sulkily. Wufei gave a silent sigh, wishing Wolfram had stayed behind at Blood Pledge castle, and turned his attention back to Josak.

The long hours that Wufei had spent traveling in the company of these men had given him a somewhat better idea of their characters.

Josak, despite his cheerful demeanor and casual speech, was an excellent horseman and a sterling intelligence officer. During a day of hard riding, Josak had still managed to scout out the locals, and pass along bits of news and current rumors.

Konrad was the consummate professional officer and commander: calm, authoritative, and firm. The man seemed both unflappable and tireless, and he apparently possessed an ass of iron, as did the rest of the team, Wufei thought resentfully, surreptitiously massaging his own aching posterior.

True to Konrad's comments, Günther had quickly cast off the effusive, fluttery mannerisms that had characterized him within the castle's walls. His flowing pale hair was now pulled back in a severe ponytail, and like Konrad, he projected the air of an experienced and competent professional officer. In this persona, Wufei could picture him as the stern but kind military academy instructor.

Wolfram was the hardest to figure out. Obviously also a trained warrior, he nevertheless vacillated between cool competence and childish tantrums. But his concern for Yuuri seemed utterly genuine, and the others treated him with the fond exasperation due a bratty younger brother.

Wufei, having little patience for Wolfram's bouts of pouting immaturity, avoided him as much as was possible in their small group.

"What else did you see?" Konrad asked Josak.

"There are archers stationed at the windows in the house's upper story," Josak answered, squatting in a patch of moonlight to draw a quick map in the dirt. "Here, here, and here," he pointed at various places in his sketch with the twig he was using as a stylus. "There are extra guards at the front and back gates, as well as the kitchen garden gate. They've set up a wooden platform in the inner courtyard, next to the fountain—it looks like they're planning to make the execution a public event, Konrad."

"Did you see Yuuri?" Konrad asked.

Josak shook his head. "Not a sign of him. They're probably not going to bring him out until the grand finale. If we manage to get past the guards, we'll have to time it carefully. Too early, and they'll just keep Yuuri in the dungeon instead of bringing him out into the open. Too late and—" he drew an expressive finger across his throat, his usual good-humored expression gone grimly serious for once. "And those archers..."

Wufei leaned forward. "I have an idea about how to take care of them. And maybe create a nice, loud distraction while I'm at it. But I'll need your help if we're going to do this quickly."

He quickly explained his plan.

"But how are we going to get close enough to the house, with all those guards?" asked Wolfram, doubtfully.

"Easy!" Josak grinned, and turned to dig in his saddlebags. An instant later, something frilly landed in Wolfram's lap. "We'll disguise ourselves as guests!"

It was a sound strategy, Wufei had to concede some time later, as he finished strapping the sheath of his sword to his back, over the shiny blue gown they had forcibly liberated from the women in a carriage waylaid about a kilometer up the road. Wolfram had gotten a green dress to match his eyes, and both of them wore hooded cloaks to conceal their unfeminine hair. Even loosed from its tight ponytail, Wufei's hair barely brushed his shoulders and Wolfram's blond locks were only collar-length

If Shin Makoku was anything like medieval Germany, no one would expect a girl in a party dress to be capable of any serious harm. But still, it made Wufei uncomfortable, especially when Josak produced a small satchel of cosmetics, and began to skillfully apply them first to Wolfram, then to Wufei, before fishing out a mirror, and applying his own makeup by moonlight.

Günther and Konrad remained in their own clothing, as their assigned roles in this rescue operation were to remain outside the manor, keeping watch over their horses and ensuring that their escape route remained open, as well as assisting with Wufei's plan.

To his disgust, Wufei found himself paired with Wolfram for the next part of the operation.

Upon Wufei's instructions, the others, having been given their instructions and carefully-measured portions of gunpowder folded into paper packets with pre-cut black-match cotton fuses, had gone to the points that Wufei had indicated on Josak's crude map.

Clad in their party dresses, swords carefully concealed under the long, flowing fabric of their cloaks (luckily, the spring night bore a distinct chill, so the cloaks didn't look out of place), Wufei and Wolfram waited until a larger group of guests pulled up in a set of four matched carriages, all with identical crests painted on their doors.

"Even the Von Karbelnikovs!" muttered Wolfram, apparently recognizing the coat of arms. "Such insolence—they didn't even try to disguise themselves! I wonder if the senior members of the family know anything about this?"

"Worry about that later," Wufei said, curtly. "After we've rescued Yuuri."

As they approached the group of new arrivals, he patted the pouch concealed in his skirts, hearing the reassuring rustle of the paper packets.

"Are you _sure_ you've got a way to quickly light the fuses without a match?" he muttered under his breath to Wolfram.

"Trust me," Wolfram said, tossing his head, and giving a surprisingly feminine chuckle in his husky tenor, as if Wufei had just said something witty to him. "I'm a master of the fire element, remember?"

Wufei gave a coy flutter of his fan, not wanting to betray his disguise by risking a laugh in his considerably deeper voice. "Whatever _that_ means," he whispered.

"You'll see," Wolfram assured him, smugly, opening his own fan.

Then they reached the group, and Wolfram said, whining a little, in perfect imitation of a spoiled rich girl: "Don't these people ever clean their outhouses? Why, I never smelled such a foul stink! I swear it's quite ruined my appetite!"

"Hey, we spent all afternoon scrubbing them out with vinegar water, m'lady!" protested the closest guard.

Wufei tensed, unsure of how well their disguises would hold up under close scrutiny.

Wolfram fluttered his long lashes, and gave the guard a playful tap on the arm with his fan. "Oh, in that case, thank you for all your hard work," he purred, and strolled past the man, and into the gateway.

Wufei followed close behind, his shoulders prickling with the anticipation of being stopped and challenged. But the outcry never came.

Nevertheless, he didn't relax until they had made it through the tunnel, and emerged into the inner courtyard.

"The trick," Wolfram said, snapping open his fan, "is to behave as if you belong. Sneaking around just makes you look suspicious."

"Hn," Wufei said, scanning the courtyard. He didn't need lessons in basic undercover ops, and especially not from Wolfram.

The courtyard was the scene of an elegant open-air party, with abundant torches, musicians set up in one of the corners, and servants circulating among the guests with trays of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of wine. As Josak had reported, there was a newly-constructed wooden platform standing in the center of the courtyard, crowned with a large, ominous-looking wooden block.

Wolfram was muttering under his breath again. "...not a single member from any of the senior branches here—these are all nobodies from the cadet lineages...third cousins, fourth cousins once removed..."

"Focus," Wufei hissed, and Wolfram gave him an impatient roll of his eyes.

"This _is_ important," he whispered back. "The Council of the Ten Noble families—if anything happens to Yuuri, the senior members of those families will choose the next Maou. I need to know if any of these traitors are council members."

"All right—suit yourself. But better get those charges placed," Wufei answered.

Then they separated, as arranged, and casually made their ways around the perimeter of the courtyard, stopping to place the packets of black powder under the guise of admiring the tulips, daffodils, and other spring flowers planted in the large clay pots that stood everywhere against the walls.

They had barely finished their task when there was a stir and murmur of anticipation.

The musicians struck up a fanfare, and eight richly-dressed men mounted the platform. Wufei recognized them immediately—they were the ringleaders of this conspiracy, the ones with whom he had argued and fought upon his initial arrival in this place

Walther von Christ stepped forward, pompous as ever in a gold-trimmed dark velvet robe with a profusion of lace at wrists and collar. He raised his hand, and the crowd gathered in the courtyard slowly fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Walther began. "Thank you all for coming tonight. I know that some of you have traveled from the far corners of Shin Makoku, to witness the end of this disastrous reign by that half-human interloper who calls himself our Maou—" Jeers, mixed with applause, interrupted him. "Tonight—tonight we witness the rebirth of our glorious demon kingdom, and celebrate a return to the days of old, when we Mazoku were respected, and humans and commoners knew their places!"

The applause this time was thunderous. Wufei clapped lackadaisically, all the while keeping an eye on the guardroom door.

_Any moment now..._he thought, feeling the familiar thrill of working a special operation. This was the juncture when his plan would either succeed or fail.

Right on cue, the heavy door swung open, and a group of guards dragged Yuuri out into the courtyard. They were followed by a tall man wearing an executioner's hood and mask and carrying an enormous, wide-bladed axe.

Wufei felt a cold chill run down his spine at the sight. _Just a couple of hours later, and I would have been too late..._Von Christ had apparently _not_ been kidding about executing Yuuri.

The slender Japanese boy was restrained at wrists and ankles with heavy manacles studded with red jewels, and there was even a dark iron collar around his neck, similarly bejeweled.

But Yuuri seemed unhurt, and that was the important thing.

The onlookers breathed out a great _ahhhhh _at his appearance_._

"It really _is_ His Majesty the Maou! And there I thought Walther was just going on, as usual," Wufei heard a nearby woman exclaim. "What if the Maou-"

"Don't worry, my dear," interrupted a gruff male voice. "He can't do anything—Von Christ assured me that those _houseki_-warded manacles are very effective."

"Ooh, _houseki_," the woman replied, with a shudder. "That's nasty human magic! Why, I feel quite sorry for the His Majesty! And he's such a sweet-looking boy, too!"

"Too late now, Lady Sabine," the man said.

Stumbling a little, Yuuri was prodded in the direction of the platform by a guard who seemed to take just a little too much pleasure in using the point of his sword against Yuuri's back.

Wufei took his eyes off Yuuri just long enough to make sure Wolfram was in position. And, indeed, the blond youth was standing by one of the planters that concealed a black-powder packet.

Yuuri's guards jerked him to a halt in the middle of the platform, right behind the headsman's block and axe. There he stood, with Sir Walther on one side, and the executioner on his other side. The remaining leaders of the conspiracy arranged themselves in a semicircle around the block.

"Yuuri Shibuya, usurper of the throne of Shin Makoku, do you recant your misguided policies? We promise you a swift and merciful death if you admit your faults to the good people assembled here."

Yuuri's chin came up and he looked Sir Walther straight in the eye. His expression was terrified, but determined.

"I'm sorry, Sir Walther," he said, in a voice that shook a little. "But I don't think it's wrong to want a peaceful kingdom where everyone is treated fairly. In fact, I think _you're_ the ones who are misguided if you think that you can rob people, and...and _hurt_ them, just because you happen to be born a nobleman."

Wufei found himself admiring the boy's courage—he didn't bluster, and he certainly didn't give off a warrior's air, but there was real backbone there, and strength enough to support his convictions.

Perhaps _this_ was what Konrad and the others valued so highly in their boy-king...not the strength of his sword arm, but the strength of his convictions?

"What?" roared Sir Walther. Even by the uncertain torchlight, Wufei could see the dark flush mottling the skin of his throat and cheeks. "So, you choose to die slowly and painfully, boy?"

"I don't want to die at all, but even if you kill me, it won't help you." Yuuri was looking less terrified and more determined by the minute. "The people of Shin Makoku won't go back to living in fear of your—"

Whatever else he had been planning to say was cut off when the executioner seized Yuuri's shoulder in a one meaty hand, and shoved him, hard.

Yuuri collapsed into a kneeling position in front of the block, and the executioner slammed his head down. Wufei winced a little as he heard the dull thunk of Yuuri's head against the wood.

Yuuri went limp.

"So, no last words from His Majesty the Maou?" Sir Walther asked, nastily, smirking openly over Yuuri's unconscious figure.

The executioner picked up the huge axe.

"NOW!" shouted Wufei with all his might, hoping that Günther and Konrad were in place outside the house.

If Wolfram's mastery of the fire element wasn't just empty boasting, then the first explosion from inside the courtyard would signal the two men waiting outside to begin lighting their own devices.

The people standing nearest Wufei turned toward him, no doubt wondering at the deep voice issuing from the cloaked "woman."

"Out of my way, you dishonorable traitors!" Wufei snarled, throwing off the encumbering cloak.

He drew his sword from the scabbard strapped to his back, and pushed forward, laying about him forcefully with the flat of his blade.

There were shrieks from the women as they shrank back from his gleaming blade. Some of their male escorts made to draw their weapons, but Wufei didn't hesitate, his sword slicing through wool and velvet to disable their arms and shoulders.

Scarcely two breaths passed before Wufei lifted his skirts, and leapt up onto the platform. Von Christ and the others were still standing there, gape-mouthed, but the executioner was raising his axe for the fatal blow

_"Wolfram! Now, goddammit"!_ Wufei shouted, again.

Timing was everything in this operation. If the gunpowder charges didn't go off soon, the archers positioned as snipers at the manor's upper-story windows would make short work of him.

His saber tore through leather and flesh, and the executioner toppled, the axe falling from his hand. It bounced once on the wooden boards of the platform, and flew out into the crowd.

Finally...._finally_, the first blast sounded. It was followed in short succession by several more, the explosions blurring together, and the air was suddenly filled with the sharp stink of gunpowder smoke.

Like a distant echo, a second set of explosion promptly began outside the manor. Konrad and Günther had indeed reacted just as planned.

Wufei heard screams and all sorts of commotion from other parts of the courtyard, but he was fully occupied with engaging Von Christ while the element of surprise was still on his side. Blustering braggart the man might be, but he was a competent swordsman, at least. Wufei parried a thrust aimed at his gut, and responded with a slash followed by a scything kick.

The combination hadn't worked on Konrad Weller, but it worked spectacularly on Walther von Christ. The power of Wufei's leg sent Sir Walther crashing backwards into two of his co-conspirators. He lost his grip on his broadsword, and it went spinning away over the edge of the platform.

The other men, who were unarmed, scrambled to leave the platform and to get out of range of Wufei's deadly saber.

The air was filled with thick black smoke now, and the onlookers were shouting and running every which way in an attempt to escape the explosions and the confusion on the platform.

Then, with a deep groan, and the vibrating scream of wood and stone pulling apart, one wing of the manor house began to collapse, weakened by the carefully-placed packets of gunpowder. The remainder of the house began to shake, and Wufei heard the tinkle and crunch of falling window glass and bricks raining down into the courtyard.

_Ha. So much for the snipers! _His plan had worked even better than he'd anticipated.

He crouched over Yuuri's sprawled form, quickly verified that the boy was unconscious but otherwise unhurt, and set to work removing the manacles. The stones set into the metal glowed sullenly, and gave off a vibration that made the marrow of Wufei's bones ache.

Fortunately, the locks on the wrist and ankle cuffs were fairly primitive, and it didn't take Wufei long to pick them. He tossed them away with a disgusted huff, and went to work on the collar around Yuuri's neck.

Yuuri began to stir, and his eyes fluttered open just as Wufei finished unclasping the collar. It, too, went flying into the darkness of the courtyard—many of the torches had been knocked over and extinguished either by the crumbling walls of the manor, or by the panicked crowd.

Yuuri's eyes opened, and widened suddenly. "Watch out!"

Wufei instinctively threw himself to one side, taking Yuuri with him.

The headsman's axe bit deep into the boards where Wufei had been kneeling just an instant before.

Walther von Christ stood over them, wild-eyed, already yanking the axe out of the wood for another swing.

"You _bastard,_" growled Wufei, trying to push Yuuri behind him. From this angle, it would be nearly impossible to stop the giant axe with his saber—his weapon would simply be cloven in twain an instant before the axe did the same thing to Wufei's skull.

_I can't die now! I can't fail Yuuri again,_ he thought, bringing his saber up, anyway, and bracing himself for the blow he knew was coming.

Power flowed through him in a hot, prickling rush, and Wufei saw his blade suddenly rimmed in flames.

At his back, he felt a separate rush of power, this one cool and unstoppable, like a mighty torrent of water.

Walther von Christ stumbled back. "You—you're really—?"

Wufei rose to his feet, the motion feeling effortless, buoyed as he was by the unexpected infusion of fiery strength. Without volition, as if he were a puppet manipulated by a higher power, he heard himself say, in a deep and resonant voice: "I AM THE MAOU OF LOVE, AND YOU HAVE GONE AGAINST ALL THE PRINCIPLES OF LOVE AND COMMON DECENCY, WALTHER VON CHRIST!"

"Y-you're s-scarier than the other o-one!" Sir Walther stammered, shrinking back.

Wufei extended his arm, and saw doves made of flame and golden power spiral upwards and outwards from his palm. The birds surrounded Von Christ's cowering form with a shower of fiery flower petals. "I WILL NOT LET YOU HURT ANYONE ELSE."

"I AM THE MAOU OF JUSTICE AND I WILL NOT PERMIT YOU TO OPPRESS MY PEOPLE WITH INJUSTICE," came an equally-powerful voice from behind him.

Wufei turned and saw that Yuuri had somehow..._transformed_...from a sweet-faced, puppy-eyed boy into a hard-eyed young man who glowed with blue energy that spiraled around him like twin dragons made of water and ice. His slit-pupiled glare was inhuman, and he radiated menace and vast power.

He turned to Wufei. "BROTHER MAOU, LET US PUT AN END TO THIS FOOLISH PLOT AND RESTORE LOVE AND JUSTICE TO MY KINGDOM." Yuuri raised his arms and the blue dragons made of ice and water raced out, sinuously surrounding three men attempting to flee out the back gate.

Wufei saw the remainder of the coup's ringleaders running for the main gate. He raised his sword, and pointed it at the gate. A wall of flames rose to bar the way, and the men skidded to a halt.

"YOU HAVE BROKEN THE LAWS OF LOVE AND KINDNESS," he boomed. "NOW, YOU WILL FACE JUSTICE FOR YOUR ACTIONS."

More doves made of fire raced out from Wufei's hands, and swooping around the men, herded them back to the platform where Yuuri and Wufei were standing side-by-side.

The flames barring the main gate died down, and Wufei saw Günther sprint into the courtyard, followed closely by Konrad.

"Your Majesty!" Günther shouted, and came to a halt at the sight of their transformations. "What—what is going on? _Both_ of you?"

Josak burst into sight a moment later, sword in his hand. "Your Majesty," he echoed, his gaze whipping rapidly between Yuuri and Wufei. "Uh, Majesties?"

Wufei swayed, feeling the strange burst of power begin to recede. He pointed with the last of his strength, and a lone fiery dove sketched out the Chinese character for "Love" in the night sky.

Then he fell to his knees, drained and panting, the courtyard whirling dizzily in his vision. He sheathed his sword, his hand trembling so badly that it took two tries to slide it back into its scabbard.

Dimly, he saw Günther and Konrad tie up the cowed prisoners, while Josak bent over the bodies in the courtyard, moving from one to the other, sorting out the wounded from the dead.

Wolfram, almost unrecognizable with his gown and cloak both in tatters, and his face blackened with soot, staggered into view. "Yuuri!"

He was bleeding from a multitude of small injuries, but nothing looked life-threatening.

Wufei became aware that Yuuri still blazed with power at this back.

"BROTHER MAOU, I OWE YOU A GREAT DEBT," said Yuuri, in his deep, very un-Yuuri-like voice. "AND IN RETURN, I SHALL USE MY POWER TO OPEN A WATER PORTAL AND SEND YOU BACK TO YOUR WORLD."

True to his word, he extended an arm, blazing with blue _maryoku_, and the water in the nearby fountain began to glow and swirl.

"QUICKLY, BEFORE MY POWER FADES! I KNOW NOT FROM WHENCE YOU CAME, SO YOU MUST HOLD YOUR DESTINATION FAST IN YOUR MIND AND GUIDE YOURSELF HOME."

"But—no, wait," Wufei said, a little desperately, as invisible forces seized him and sent him flying towards the great shimmering vortex that had now formed in the fountain's carved stone basin. "At least let me change out of this—"

The glowing water swallowed him, and he felt a momentary gut-wrenching sensation of weightlessness.

Then, with a squelching thump and scrape of his sword against tile, Wufei found himself sprawling on the tiled floor of the Preventers restroom. "—dress," he finished.

He was back.

Just then, he heard Duo's voice, right outside the door. "—I swear, he was in here, and then he just _disappeared_, Heero. It's the weirdest thing—"

Wufei looked around desperately for a place to hide. If he could manage to reach one of the stalls in time—

He rose to his feet, and promptly tripped over the sopping hem of his gown, now wrapped fiendishly around his ankles.

Then it was too late. The door opened, just as Heero said, "Are you certain he didn't just slip past you? Wufei can move very quietly when he wants—"

"Hell, no," Duo replied. "I searched every inch—Oh. My. God."

There was a brief, horrified pause as all three of them stared at each other.

Heero was the first to recover. He won Wufei's eternal gratitude by ignoring his attire after an initial startled glance, saying only in his deadpan style: "Maybe you just didn't look hard enough, Duo."

"Uh, no, I—" Duo began, his cobalt-blue eyes wide. "Good God, Wufei, how did you--I mean, no one's gonna _believe_ this!" He began to laugh uproariously, his head thrown back, his mouth open. "Chang Wufei, a cross-dresser. Oh. My. God!"

With a lightning-quick motion, Duo whipped out his cellphone and pointed it at Wufei.

Wufei heard the click of the camera shutter. It sounded very loud in the tiled bathroom.

And, strangely, his blood pressure remained stable.

A week ago, this would have sent him in an apoplectic rage, and he would have likely tried to slice Duo into ribbons for his impudence.

But since then, he had learned that weakness was not automatically to be despised. In fact, a little weakness could even strengthen loyalty and friendship.

And Duo Maxwell never teased those he disliked.

It was a difficult lesson to learn, but Wufei had always been a scholar at heart.

"And now you owe me one, Duo," he said with icy dignity, picking himself up and getting to his feet, very carefully this time. "In return for my restraint in _not_ destroying that phone and breaking both of your arms, I will permit you to fetch me my spare uniform from my locker downstairs, and then I will further permit you to buy me lunch at a place other than the Preventers cafeteria, along with a _very_ large beer."

Duo grinned, and even Heero was smiling. "Only if you promise to tell us _everything,_" he countered, gleefully.

Wufei shook out his skirts, sending water droplets flying. "That depends on the quality of the lunch," he quipped.

And to everyone's astonishment, not the least his own, he smiled back at his two friends. "You're _not_ going to _believe_ what happened to me. How long has it been since I...vanished?"

Heero shrugged. "Fifteen minutes, perhaps."

Duo interrupted: "Are you _sure_ your story is worth lunch _and_ a beer...? I dunno, it was only fifteen minutes. That makes for a pretty short story by my standards."

Wufei glared at him, narrow-eyed. "It was a lot longer than fifteen minutes to _me_, Maxwell. But if you're not interested..." He shrugged, and pretended to turn away.

"Chang, you drive a hard bargain," Duo said, ruefully. "Okay, okay. Lunch _and_ a beer, on me. But this had better be good!"

"You have no idea, Maxwell. No idea."

~The End~


	6. Epilogue

**_Warning: Extremely cracky humor ahead. I know I said the story was completed in the previous chapter, but the birthday girl, for whom this tale was written, contributed an epilogue of her own. Written by the birthday girl herself, Pamela Regina! _**

**"Dr. Rush, Special Agent Chang is here."**

**"Thank you, Karin. Keep him waiting pointlessly for about twenty minutes until he starts to fume, and then send him in."**

**"I understand, Doctor. You really ****_like_**** to torture these field agents, don't you?"**

**"Sometimes I ****_do_**** torture them just for fun. But, in this case, I have a small score to settle with Agent Chang involving traffic detail in a school pick-up zone."**

**ooOOoo**

**"Ah, Agent Chang, do come in. Would you like to lie down here on this comfy couch?"**

**"I will sit …. here, woman… I mean, Doctor," Wufei replied curtly, attempting with only partial success to sit stiffly upright in a chair intended for the spineless lolling of the mentally anemic, among whom Wufei assuredly did not count himself. **

**He was here only because otherwise Maxwell would continue to follow him around, and send him e-mail, and leave him notes, and call him at home, and drop by uninvited and unannounced, nagging him to make an appointment and extolling the virtues of this, this …****_female_**** head quack who called herself a psychologist. He had even heard Yuy grunt what sounded suspiciously like an agreement at lunch the other day, although perhaps that was merely because Maxwell's incessant harassment had worn through even Yuy's iron resistance to auditory torture. **

**"Well, wherever you feel comfortable then. Would you care for some tea, Agent Chang? "**

**Wufei relaxed minutely; perhaps the woman was not totally without some sense of propriety. "Yes, thank you; that would be pleasant."**

**"I find that a nice cup of tea helps to put people in a more flexible state of mind," she murmured, handing Wufei a sturdy mug embellished with a violently colored and cartoonish caricature of … Duo Maxwell?! **

**Wufei averted his eyes from the design just in case the sudden lack of the actual irritating intrusions of Maxwell into his orderly routine, day and night for the past several days, was causing him to hallucinate the presence of the baka annoyance, and then found himself fortuitously distracted by the unfamiliar but pleasing aroma wafting upwards with the steam from the pale golden liquid in the mug.**

**Wufei sipped cautiously at the brew, paused, sipped again and raised an inquiring eyebrow, which, due to the tension of his tightly tied tiny ponytail, created a ripple effect all the way to the back of his head. **

**"It's my own blend," the doctor replied to the implied question. "Three parts Green Dragon oolong to one part Jack." **

**"Jack?" Wufei said doubtfully. "I am not familiar with that blend of tea." **

**"No, I don't suppose you would be. It's a pre-colony, uh …, grain based infusion from a place called Tennessee. Most people find it very relaxing and conducive to free association." **

**"It is … palatable," admitted Wufei, recklessly committing himself to being agreeable. The flavor was unique, but unfamiliar. Yet the brew had a haunting undertone that Wufei felt ought to be familiar. Or perhaps it was in the aroma. It smelled like …, like … something to do with Maxwell? What could it possibly have to do with--? **

**Then Wufei could very nearly see the light bulb blinking on over his head and suffered a brief Ouran-flash before his mind cleared enough to inform him that it was the same aroma that had clung to Maxwell the night he had appeared on Wufei's doorstep affectionately inebriated, full of inhuman good cheer and … whisky! **

**Wufei spluttered, and only a lifetime of a scholar's and a warrior's combined disciplines prevented him from expelling the foul liquid right on the floor. Instead he dribbled the stuff awkwardly back into the mug and set it down with such force that the liquid sloshed irritably in its container, kind of the way sand might stir irritably if Wufei had happened to have a giant gourd of magically infused sand, which he didn't, because, of course, that would be ridiculous. **

**"Alcohol!" This tea has been polluted with fermented grain alcohol! " Wufei exclaimed. "Fool woman! I do not foul my mind or desecrate my body with inebriating substances! **

**"Now, now, Agent Chang. Actually, it's corn liquor, not grain alcohol, but let us not lose our focus on what brought you here today over some unimportant little confusion. If you don't like the tea, you don't have to drink it." **

**"Tea?! You abuse my very ancestors by naming this abomination tea! Are you trying to poison me?!"**

**"Well, moving on now," The Doctor, I mean, the doctor continued, apparently inured to client ranting to the point of deafness, "let's put that little misunderstanding aside and focus on the reason we're here today. Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself, Agent Chang?"**

**"No."**

**"Ah, I see. Well, would you like to tell me how you are feeling today?"**

**"You mean besides deceived, misled, tricked, duped, and betrayed by a so-called medical professional?"**

**"Good, good; just let all those feelings out. Let them out and… release them to the wild. Or the wind. One of those things. Could you tell me why you decided to come here today?"**

**"To get Maxwell off my case."**

**"That's a starting point. Why in particular do you think that Agent Maxwell is 'on your case'? And, do you often have these feelings of persecution about anyone other than Agent Maxwell? " **

**"Persecu --! Feelings of --? I am not paranoid! Maxwell truly is the most annoying person in the known universe." **

**"Really? That's very interesting, Agent Chang, because that particular fantasy is almost a universal construct among the Preventer agents I see in my office. In fact, I'm writing a little article on the subject of group transfer paranoia based on it."**

**"…"**

**"So, you have feelings of being watched, or haunted, or perhaps stalked by Agent Maxwell?" **

**"Yes! That is, no! Not all the time. Only the past few days because he wanted me to make this appointment to talk about--" Wufei's voice descended suddenly from controlled irritation to a hesitant monotone. "About … an experience I had a few days ago."**

**"I see. And was Agent Maxwell a factor in this experience?" **

**"No, Maxwell wasn't there; at least, he was there before, and the again later when I came back, but he wasn't there during …, during it."**

**"Oh, good. Agent Maxwell was only there at the beginning and the end, but not in the middle. That seems like progress! Can you tell me more about this experience you had?"**

**Wufei's warrior spirit held its head and groaned inwardly. This was going to be a painfully counterproductive session, but neither could he leave and admit to total failure, because Maxwell would just start it all up again. **

**"It began when I was in the men's restroom in Preventers' Headquarters," he began reluctantly. **

**ooOOoo**

**"That's a very interesting … uh, story, Agent Chang. There is one element in this waking dream or hallucination of yours that I feel requires further exploration; it could very well be the key to a repressed motivation that triggered your experience. So, tell me, how did you feel in your dream about wearing women's clothing? Were you at all embarrassed by that, or did you enjoy the experience to some extent? Or, perhaps, was your reaction a mixture of both?"**

**"I was not embarrassed, but neither did I enjoy it. I was in disguise and undercover. It was a necessary part of the operation. A completely successful operation, I might add."**

**"Well, let me put it this way: did you feel attractive in this dress, or that others found you attractive and would love you while you were wearing a dress more so than when you wear your Preventer uniform?"**

**"..."**

**"Have you ever thought about, or fantasized about Agent Maxwell wearing a dress?"**

**"****_What?!_**** No. Never! I do not want to see Maxwell in a dress. ****_Ever!_**** Why would you even ask a question like that?"**

**"It's a somewhat popular fantasy in some … circles," the doctor replied, looking unusually coy. "Are you sure you've never had that dream?"**

**"…"**

**"Agent Chang?"**

**"I would like to inspect your professional credentials and license now, please." **

**"Agent Chang, in professional psychobabble terms, sometimes the ego provides excuses as a means to allow the id to fulfill its secret but shameful desires, while your subsequent anger and agitation could be the result of your objective super-ego attempting to suppress the -- **

**"I am not agitated! Or, I was not agitated until Maxwell insisted on trying to help me, which I did not require to begin with."**

**"No, of course you're not. Let's call it … concerned. You're concerned that your dream in which you enjoyed wearing a woman's dress, and not just any dress, but an elaborate period ballgown, might indicate a sort of unrecognized yearning –" **

**"Baka!" Wufei reigned in his rising temper with obvious difficulty. "I did not wish to wear a dress; it was a professional necessity! And that has nothing to do with the fact that this event occurred! It was not a hallucination! I am not crazy!"**

**"No one said you are crazy, Agent Chang. I know for a fact that you are an intelligent and rational man. And therefore I know that you really want to understand what happened to you and why you experienced this unusual… event. Isn't that why we are here today?"**

**"…"**

**"Well, then, let's leave the topic of, uh…you know, aside for the moment, as it seems to upset you so much, and look at a different aspect of what you remember about this that could also be a key motivator. Can we do that now?"**

**"…"**

**"All right. So, Agent Chang, while you were in disguise for this covert operation, were you aware of wearing lady's lingerie as well, and, if so, how did you feel about that?"**

**ooOOoo**

**"Doctor Rush! Are you all right?"**

**"Of course, Karin, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"**

**"Well, I just thought -- That is-- I heard that dreadful shriek, and then Agent Chang just stormed out of your office, and his face was all red, and he was sort of hunched over with his hands balled into fists, and I'm afraid some of the things he was muttering might have been threats."**

**"Sadly, it does seem that Agent Chang is having some serious problems. I'm afraid I am going to have to recommend further treatment sessions for him to Commander Une. ****_Required_**** sessions. In the meanwhile, he will have to remain on restricted duty, probably crossing guard patrol. It's very sad to see such a dedicated and effective agent lose his marbles like that. But, on the bright side, I can probably get three or four articles published on his case history. It's really very unusual." **

**"Oh, Doctor, you're so good and caring!"**

**"Why, thank you, Karin. Would you like a cup of tea?"**

**Fini**


End file.
